Protect Me Always
by beatrix6812
Summary: AU-After finding death threats and actual deaths on her account, the famous Kurata Sana hires a bodyguard. Hayama Akito is confident about his skills, but what will he do when he finds himself falling in love with his client?
1. A Letter

Author's Note: Hello everyone! This here is an AU. I'm forced to make it AU because I have only seen up to episode 32 of Kodocha, and I didn't wanna write something that takes place after the events that I have no idea what're about. I'd probably just get flamed that way. So anyway, in this fic, Sana is 17 and Hayama is 18. The other characters are either 17 or 18 as well (I'm not sure because I don't know when their birthdays are). I've tried to keep everyone in character, but I apologize if I made mistakes. If you could leave a note of advice in your review about the personalities, please do.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Kodomo No Omocha or any of its characters. So there.  
  
* * *  
  
The spotlight shone brilliantly on the mahogany stage, settled over a single actress. She stood calmly in the middle, wearing a glittering black gown with a high neck and two long slits at the sides. A bouquet of crimson roses was nestled in the crook of her left arm, while her right arm was occupied waving to the throng of screaming fans. A broad smiled stretched across her pretty face, showing off her dazzling white teeth. Her chocolate eyes glistened with a barrier of tears quickly building.  
  
"Is that all you can do?" a teasing voice scolded to the mass of people who. "Show Kurata Sana how much her fans care about her!"  
  
The crowd responded with roaring shouts of affection for their idol, thunderously applauding for the talented girl. Hundreds of roses were hurtled through the air, landing gracefully besides Sana's feet, creating a sweet aroma under the hot light.  
  
"Zenjirou-sensei," Sana whispered lovingly to her childhood acting teacher. The man was truly a second father to her.  
  
Zenjirou beamed at his actress, winking. "We all thank you deeply, Sana-chan, for appearing in this year's Komawari production after all this time. Everyone had the idea that you left our acting troupe without looking back."  
  
Sana shook her head slowly, closing her eyes with the brilliant smile never wavering. "I could never just walk away from Komawari! I may have quit the troupe, but I'll always come back for visits!"  
  
Sana waved to the cheering audience, gently bouncing on the balls of her feet eagerly. The people who sat in the front row were practically on the stage, raising autograph booklets and glamour photos of her, pleading for the teen actress to sign them.  
  
One woman was left sitting in the front row, calmly looking at stage from her velvet perch. A sign flashed with numerous colors above her head, the message reading, "Break a leg, Sana."  
  
Sana smiled respectfully at her mother, reading the encouraging sign. A chuckle escaped her petal-like lips after reading the fine print ("Not literally!") 'Only Mama,' she thought to herself.  
  
It took nearly an hour for everyone to file out of the auditorium, the guards ushering the fans to leave immediately. Sana sat at the edge of the stage, still dressed in the gorgeous gown, her long legs dangling off of the wood surface.  
  
Sitting alone in auditoriums after a production was always comforting for some reason. Ever since Sana could remember, she would always sit and muse in the deep silence. She came to think of it as some sort of therapeutic exercise, and used it to her advantage after almost every theatre production. Especially noisy ones like tonight.  
  
"Sana-chan!"  
  
Sana's head perked up to greet the feminine voice, which belonged to Matsui Fuka, her hair-stylist. She was well known for her fabulous creativity with hair, and Sana made sure to give credit to her at press conferences. Tonight, Fuka had braided Sana's hair into a circlet fashion, curling the brown tresses that fell to her shoulders and placing elegant roses and pearls here and there.  
  
"Fuka-chan!" Sana replied, smiling at her best friend.  
  
Fuka bounced towards the actress happily, plopping down next to her and giving the actress a hug. "You were great! Well, from what I was able to catch. And it was so sweet how you came and preformed in the Komawari production!"  
  
"I never wanted them to think I distanced myself," Sana declared. "Does this mean I proved that to them tonight?" she added hopefully.  
  
Fuka's head bobbed up and down rapidly. "Of course, stupid! Didn't you hear Zenjirou-sensei? He was so happy!"  
  
"Indeed he was."  
  
Sana turned her head toward the deep male voice speaking from the left entrance of the auditorium. The man was tall and handsome, wearing sunglasses as if he were born with them. A very pretty woman stood next to him, her hair pulled back into a relaxed bun.  
  
"Rei-kun!" Sana chirped, spotting her manager. "And Asako-san!" Sana slid off the stage, careful as to not trip over her black heels.  
  
"Hi Sana-chan!" Asako greeted warmly, embracing the teen actress.  
  
"Asako-san, I didn't know you came," Sana admitted, staring up at her own idol. A wicked smile twisted her lips as she averted her gaze between Asako and Rei. "Or were you here because of my dear, sweet manager?"  
  
"N-No, we both decided to come together," Rei stammered, playing with his fingers. Asako just stared down at floor, laughing nervously.  
  
"Sana-chan, quit pestering them!"  
  
The demanding voice of Sugita Aya reached the actress's ears, and Sana spotted her other best friend making her way to sit with Fuka. Aya was in charge of Sana's make-up, and was constantly getting offers to work for many other celebrities. She was a very talented facial artist, knowing exactly what colors to use on any person at first glance. She had gone with a shimmering silver eye shadow tonight, greatly bringing out the brown in Sana's eyes. A light pink shade had gently been brushed on her cheekbones, while a deep, sexy red graced her lips.  
  
With both Fuka's and Aya's talents, it was no wonder why mangers begged for them to use their skills on the other celebrities out there. But the two stayed by Sana's side at all times, only working for Asako now and then. They were truly her greatest friends, and the three had been that way from elementary school up until they graduated from high school. That was when Sana had officially hired the two to work for her.  
  
Sana grinned at her make-up artist. "Did you enjoy the show, Aya-chan?"  
  
"What I saw, I loved."  
  
Since both Fuka and Aya were constantly preparing Sana for her next scene, they never actually got to sit through a show. But that never stopped them from encouraging her, and they would often sneak into the wings to take a closer look anyway. Sooner or later in a production, Sana would have to laugh like the script told her. It got tiring after a while to thinking of something funny and chuckle, but with her two best friends waving like silly madwomen from the wings, it was much easier.  
  
"I'm glad!" Sana ran over to give Aya a hug as she did with the others, ignoring Fuka's quirk about it being too "mushy."  
  
Aya giggled at the cheerful actress, returning the hug. "Oh, Hisae- chan wanted to talk to you," she said, remembering the order their light- haired friend gave her. "She's in your dressing room."  
  
Kamayai Hisae wasn't as close with the three, for her bossy personality agitated them. But she was a fun person to be around when she wasn't angry, so she was sometimes included in their plans. Hisae's job with Sana was to help Fuka and Aya with any supplies they needed. She was good for the job, always prepared with extra make-up kits and hair accessories.  
  
Aside from being an assistant, Hisae was also a back-up manager, where her firm attitude would come into play. Sana had been flooded with job offers during a course of months, and although Rei was more than enough to handle them, Sana wanted him to spend time with Asako as well. So she hired Hisae as an assistant manager, whose leadership qualities Sana remembered from high school.  
  
Sana nodded and headed toward the door, which led to the corridor of dressing rooms.  
  
Her own door had a bright yellow star on it, which she taped up there herself. She laughed at the sight of it now. A face was scribbled onto it, and colorful markers were used to draw various cosmetics, such as blush and eye shadow. 'Must be the work of the great Sugita Aya,' Sana thought, shaking her head, but still smiling.  
  
"Hisae-chan?" Sana called into the room after creaking the door open.  
  
"Ah, Sana-chan. There's a note for you," Hisae responded calmly, leaning against the vanity.  
  
Sana's brows furrowed as she started at her assistant manager. "I thought all letters went to my fan club first," she thought aloud.  
  
Hisae nodded slowly. "Yeah, but I found this one right by your door." She reached behind her and held up an envelope. "You might as well read it," she said, handing it to Sana.  
  
Sana gingerly took the envelope. It was black, and her name was written in a silver pen, contrasting highly with its raven background. A white rose was taped to it, giving the envelope an overall elegant look. 'My fans,' Sana thought dreamily, smiling at her wonderful viewers.  
  
A slender finger slid through the fold and opened the envelope. The letter inside was also a black piece of paper, with silver words written on the surface. Sana's smile faded slowly as she read the contents.  
  
' " Kurata" ' she read to herself.  
  
' "I saw you from within the auditorium today. You looked beautiful, as always. The dress was stunning. Sometimes I wonder what you would look like underneath that silly cloth. I wonder what you would feel like more often. I'll find out soon, though. Whether you're dead or alive." '  
  
Sana's mouth hung open in shock, as her face slowly turned into an expression of total repulsion. "This is," she whispered meekly, dropping the letter from her hands, "DISGUSTING!"  
  
Hisae looked at Sana in surprise as her friend jumped on the note fiercely, punching holes into the paper with the heels of her shoes. Her face was turning red with anger and her hair started to fall apart.  
  
"What a pervert!" Sana shouted, continuing her motion of stomping on the limp letter. "This is NOT a fan letter!" Her jumps were forced to cease as one of the heels broke off, leaving her panting.  
  
"Well I was going to ask you to let me read it, but I suppose that's impossible now," Hisae commented, eyebrows raised. "So what did it say? Was some guy trying to get you into his bed or something?"  
  
Sana looked up at her friend, stunned by her bluntness. She murmured an, "Oh, you're kinky," before turning angry again and stomping on the letter with her left foot. "But you're right! Well, halfway right."  
  
Hisae shrugged. "Lots of stars get those kind of letters. I wouldn't worry too much about it."  
  
"But," Sana interrupted, eyes gaining a slightly fearful look. SLIGHTLY. Kurata Sana wasn't easily scared, after all. 'He said, "Whether you're dead or alive." Man, what a creep.' Sana shook her head. "Never mind. I've gotta go and clean up."  
  
* * *  
  
Fuka stared at Sana in awe as she plucked the roses and pearls from her friend's hair. "What a jerk!" she commented after Sana's story of the letter.  
  
Aya shook her head disappointedly while cleaning Sana's eyes. "Yeah. But it's kinda scary."  
  
"Oh, it makes me so angry!" Sana seethed, wriggling angrily in the plush vanity chair.  
  
Fuka put a hand on Sana's shoulder, trying to keep her from moving so much. "Well if he ever shows up, I'm going to give him a huge piece of my crafty mind!"  
  
"Yeah, and I will too!" Aya agreed, giving a reassuring nod. "But, you know..maybe you should get a bodyguard, Sana-chan."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Fuka grinned dreamily as her eyes lit up. "A bodyguard? You mean, like a hunky muscle man who will be forced to stay with us at all times?"  
  
Aya allowed herself to grin evilly, a pretty rare occasion for the somewhat shy girl. "Uh-huh."  
  
Fuka's hand gripped Sana's shoulder tighter, as her other hand rose in the air, curled in a tight fist. "Let's do it!" she shrieked.  
  
Sana fought the urge to slap them both, especially Boy-Hunter Fuka. "It's just one crappy letter! I do NOT need a bodyguard!" she protested.  
  
Fuka glanced sideways at her best friend, placing her free hand on her slender hip. "Who said anything about NEEDING one?" she replied nonchalantly. The hair-stylist rummaged through her bag to find the hairbrush. "All you have to do is act like Miss Damsel in Distress and-" Fuka stopped speaking as she stared intently into her bag.  
  
"What is it?" Aya asked, pausing with the make-up cleaner.  
  
Sana saw Fuka reach into her bag and pull out a black envelope, the name 'Sana' written in the loopy silver letters.  
  
"Or maybe you do really need one," Fuka spoke softly, laying it on Sana's lap gently.  
  
* * *  
  
"Akito-kun!"  
  
A fist pushed forcefully into a black punching bag, clouds of dust rolling off of the dark surface.  
  
"Akito-kun!"  
  
The fist struck again, followed by side kick.  
  
"Akito-kun! Answer me already!"  
  
A roundhouse kick slammed into the punching bag, the force wrenching it from the chain as it flew into the wall.  
  
Hayama Akito straightened the sweatbands on his wrist, barely affected from his short workout. 'Maybe the bag isn't heavy enough,' he reasoned with himself.  
  
Hayama glanced at the young man beside him. "What do you want, Tsuyoshi?"  
  
Ohki Tsuyoshi glared at his best friend in disbelief. He should have known Hayama wouldn't allow any interruptions during his workout. "I have a job for you," he announced. "Or rather, your father does."  
  
Hayama kept staring at Tsuyoshi, mentally telling him to keep talking.  
  
"He wants you to act as a bodyguard for a girl."  
  
Hayama rolled his eyes as he walked over to the trashed punching bag, inspecting the dent her made in the wall. 'If I had kicked harder, maybe it would have gone through completely.'  
  
Tsuyoshi sighed and walked over to his Black Belt partner. "Will you just listen to me?" After a slight pause from the silent man, he went on. "It's Kurata Sana. Now I know you're not crazy about guarding celebrities, but-"  
  
"I don't guard, Tsuyoshi. Especially not celebrities." Hayama glared at Tsuyoshi before going back to inspect the gaping dent.  
  
"Come on, Akito-kun. It won't be so bad! Besides, your father personally wants you on the job."  
  
"Tell him to hire Takaishi," Hayama answered simply. "Or even you."  
  
"You are way more trained than we are," Tsuyoshi protested. "That's why you were chosen. Celebrities are a different case than civilians. A bodyguard should know how to use a gun AND hand to hand combat skills. Takaishi-kun and I are only trained in using weapons. You mastered both, though."  
  
"Then my old man should choose one of his special men that work under him. He's the police chief, he should have more than enough," Hayama grunted, getting irritated.  
  
Tsuyoshi tapped his foot impatiently. "Look, your dad wants you. Not me, not Takaishi, not one of his men, but YOU."  
  
Hayama gripped the punching bag harshly. 'Why the hell would he want me?' he thought to himself, cursing his father. 'Why would he want an eighteen year old to protect some chic? Damn him.'  
  
Hayama gave Tsuyoshi a slight nod. "Fine."  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Good? Bad? Please let me know! Oh, and sorry if the note was a bit inappropriate, but I was trying my hardest not to make it the really cliché "I'm going to kill you." Alright, please review! I accept constructive criticism as well. Note how I said "constructive." 'Cuz you know, just writing "You suck!" doesn't help. If I get enough reviews, I'll post the second chappie! 


	2. A Meeting

A/N: Hi again! This is mainly an introduction chapter, so not much action. But there is a small scene where action comes into play. Anyway, enjoy! Oh, and thanks to my three reviewers for taking the time to say something! Love ya lots!  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will.  
  
* * *  
  
"You did WHAT?" Sana clutched the cordless phone with her slender fingers, her eyes wide with disbelief.  
  
A sigh was heard on the other end.  
  
"Your mother and I hired you a bodyguard," Fuka explained to her best friend.  
  
"Fuka-chan, I told you I didn't need one!" Sana yelled, exasperated.  
  
"Sana-chan, you've gotten three letters so far. There was one in your dressing room, one in my bag, and one in Aya-chan's make-up carrier." Anger swept into Fuka's voice as she tried to convince Sana of how serious these disturbing letters were getting.  
  
Sana's fingers grasped the phone tighter as she looked down at her lap, a black envelope lying in the folds of her robe. 'Four,' she corrected in her mind. That one had been the worse. Sana recalled the spine-chilling letter, grasping the envelope with her free hand.  
  
' "Kurata," ' it had began, like usual.  
  
' "I dreamt of you last night. I could almost feel your cold, dead body encased in my arms. I always try my hardest to make my dreams come true."  
  
A shiver racked Sana's body as she fought to respond coolly to her friend. "But he hasn't done anything yet, right?" she protested. 'You and Aya-chan are involved in this as it is,' she thought to herself, not wanting to put her friends in danger.  
  
"Yes, and let's keep it that way!"  
  
Fuka's curt reply left Sana with a knowingly feeling that her friend wasn't going to give up.  
  
"So," Fuka continued when Sana stayed silent, "He's coming to your house tomorrow."  
  
Sana's head bowed down in defeat. "I can't believe this," she muttered.  
  
"Hmph. You better believe it Sana-chan, because tomorrow morning at ten o' clock, one hell of a hunky muscle man is gonna be arriving at your door!"  
  
Sana didn't miss the twinge of excitement in Fuka's voice, along with the delighted squeal at the end of her sentence.  
  
"So, am I to expect you to be here as well, Fuka-chan?" A grin tugged at the actress's lips.  
  
"Of course!" came Fuka's huffy reply. "What, you thought I would actually stay home and let you have him all to yourself?"  
  
"You can have him all to yourself. I'm not interested," Sana said flatly.  
  
"Oh yeah," Fuka drawled. "I forgot that the great Kurata Sana doesn't date."  
  
Sana fidgeted nervously with the hem of her short robe. "Fuka-chan," she warned in a low voice.  
  
"Right, right." From the tone of Fuka's voice, Sana could detect that she was nodding at the other end of the line. "Still waiting for the 'right person,' eh Sana-chan?" she asked, putting extra emphasis on 'right person.'  
  
Sana shrugged, more to herself than to her best friend. "Well, I guess. I'm fine the way I am. I wouldn't have time for a relationship, anyway."  
  
Fuka elicited another sigh. "You've done it before, Sana-chan."  
  
A blush tinged Sana's cheeks. "Yeah, but Naozumi-kun is an actor too," she declared. "And as you can see, we're not together anymore! So HAH!" she finished, determined to win this argument they had at least once a week over the telephone.  
  
"Hmph."  
  
Sana smiled saucily, leaning back against the sea of pillows on her bed. "I have to go now, Fuka-chan. I'll talk to you tomorrow, apparently."  
  
"Count on it," Fuka said reassuringly. "Bye!"  
  
"Bye!"  
  
Sana let her hand fall from her ear, still clasping the phone. She looked up at the ceiling, a blank expression on her face. 'A bodyguard..why me?'  
  
* * *  
  
The elegant grandfather clock in the living room of the Kurata household struck three o' clock, in the morning. Sana stepped down the stairs as quietly as she could, not wanting to awaken her mother or Rei. Her throat felt parched, and she was desperate for a glass of water.  
  
She switched on the lights in the kitchen, immediately pulling out a glass from the cupboard. Sana held the glass under the faucet, bringing the cold water to her lips once it was full. The liquid slid down her throat refreshingly.  
  
Sana set the glass down beside the sink, staring out the window above the sink in a daze-like fashion.  
  
It was a serene night, with the moon illuminating the backyard as the breeze blew gently, causing the trees to sway slowly in the calm draft. Stars were dancing in the azure sky, fireflies were wafting through the clean air, and a shadow-like being was leaning up against a tree.  
  
'Huh?' Sana leaned forward slightly, the shadow directly in her vision. She gasped when it moved, taking agonizingly slow steps toward the mansion. The glass tipped over as Sana stumbled backwards in surprise, making an ear shattering noise on the marble floor.  
  
The hallway light turned on, averting Sana's gaze to said corridor.  
  
"Who's there?" a sleepy but clear voice demanded.  
  
"Rei-kun," Sana whispered hoarsely.  
  
Rei walked into the kitchen, clad in his pajama wear. His hair was tousled, and his sunglasses were, not surprisingly, still shading his eyes.  
  
"Sana-chan? What's the matter?" he inquired, gaining a look of concern for his actress.  
  
Sana glanced back out the window fervently, backing up towards Rei. "I-It's," she stuttered, keeping her gaze locked on the approaching figure.  
  
Rei followed Sana's gaze and stood before the window, peering out into the backyard. Sana saw him look from left to right, then turn around to face her. "I don't see anything."  
  
Sana ran to the window, searching for the figure. A frown creased her brow when she found it not there. "It was right over there, up against that tree," she whispered, knowing how crazy she must sound.  
  
Rei laid a hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "It's been a rough couple of days. Why don't you get some rest, Sana-chan?" he suggested.  
  
Sana nodded slowly, before returning to her bedroom. 'I know I saw someone there,' she thought to herself. She draped a hand over her chest, feeling the rapid beating of her heart. 'Stop beating so fast!' she commanded. 'You shouldn't be afraid. He still hasn't done anything.'  
  
The canopy bed creaked as Sana slid under the rich feather quilts. 'He still hasn't done anything,' she repeated, it being her only comfort that night.  
  
* * *  
  
"This must be it," Tsuyoshi commented to Hayama, eyeing the mansion.  
  
"Yeah." Hayama strolled casually to the front gate, inspecting it for security purposes.  
  
He pushed the door gently. The bar door gave way immediately, allowing for the two teenagers to enter. 'And anyone else,' he criticized.  
  
"Come on," Hayama ordered to his companion, sauntering into the front lawn.  
  
The two trudged up the marble staircase, glancing around now and then for security devices. Tsuyoshi smiled approvingly at some of the statues lined up against the railing.  
  
Hayama pounded the mahogany door loudly, signaling the occupants inside that he had arrived. 'Here goes nothing,' he thought carelessly as the door flew open.  
  
The woman who greeted them at the door surprised the two bodyguards. An open fan was held up in front of her face, covering her nose and mouth. A squirrel was perched happily on her head, riding a miniature Ferris wheel.  
  
"Come," she stated calmly, turning around and heading back into the mansion, the hem of her kimono trailing on the smooth floor.  
  
Hayama and Tsuyoshi followed the strange woman wordlessly, entering the elegant living room.  
  
Hayama seated himself on the plush velvety sofa, leaning back comfortably. Tsuyoshi glanced nervously at the semi-rudeness of his partner, but took a seat next to him.  
  
Across from the two bodyguards was another velvety sofa, seating three young women. The two sitting on the outside were staring at the ones across from them with polite smiles on their faces, while the one in the middle stared down at the cup of tea held between her palms.  
  
'That must be Kurata,' Hayama reasoned, spotting the weary actress.  
  
Sana slowly brought her gaze up to meet Hayama's, a tired smile forming on her face. "Which one of you is on the job?" she inquired softly.  
  
"I am," Hayama responded flatly.  
  
Sana bowed her head politely to her bodyguard. "Nice to meet you," she stated. 'He's around my age. I was expecting someone a bit older.'  
  
Hayama noted the doubtful look in the actress's eyes, and folded his arms across his broad chest. "Hayama Akito. The police chief offered me this job."  
  
Sana's bowed her head again before returning her gaze to the cup nestled in her hands. "Kurata Sana," she murmured.  
  
A paper fan made contact with Sana's head sharply as she shrieked in surprise. She glanced accusingly at Fuka, the fan clutched in her best friend's hand.  
  
"What was that for?!" Sana demanded.  
  
"For not showing proper hospitality!" Fuka declared, aiming to swat Sana again.  
  
Sana quickly pulled out her toy mallet and blocked the incoming fan. The two sat there, struggling to hit the other one with their ridiculous weapons.  
  
Hayama rolled his eyes. "I didn't come here to watch children's games," he muttered to Tsuyoshi.  
  
Tsuyoshi stared at him warningly. "Don't be like that, Akito-kun. I'm sure they're just letting out some built-up tension." He caught the slight nod of the third girl, who had been quit thus far.  
  
"The last few days have been hectic," Aya told them.  
  
Tsuyoshi nudged Hayama gently, shooting him a stare that read, 'She heard you.'  
  
Hayama responded with another look. 'I don't care.'  
  
Tsuyoshi grunted at his stubborn partner and turned back to Aya as the other two girls started to settle down after realizing that Sana's tea was spilling over.  
  
"Is it only Kurata-san who is getting these letters?" he asked her.  
  
Aya nodded. "Yeah, but some of the letters were placed in mine and Fuka- chan's bags."  
  
"Has he shown up anywhere?" Hayama asked, staring at Sana.  
  
Sana furrowed her eyebrows, looking back down at her tea. "Well, I saw someone last night. But when Rei-kun went to check, he saw no one."  
  
"There probably was someone there," Hayama informed her, recalling how easily the front gate had opened. "Your front gate wasn't closed all the way when Tsuyoshi and I arrived," he stated after getting a look of confusion from the actress's eyes.  
  
"So someone really was here," Fuka commented, leaning back abruptly with a loud "plop."  
  
"It's so creepy." Aya followed Fuka's movement, adding a visible shudder.  
  
"Don't worry," Tsuyoshi said, reassurance consuming his voice. "Akito-kun won't let anything pass by him."  
  
Aya gazed at Tsuyoshi, a questioning look in her eyes. "What about you?"  
  
Tsuyoshi smiled. "I have another case for the next few weeks," he replied.  
  
Aya returned his smile while Fuka gagged, allowing Sana to notice only.  
  
"So," Sana started, her face brightening slightly. "Will you take the job, Hayama-san?" she asked hopefully.  
  
Hayama's expression was blank as he stared into her deep brown eyes. He nodded brusquely.  
  
Sana sighed in relief. "Great. I wasn't too thrilled about the idea of having a bodyguard," she admitted, "but after last night, I'm a bit frightened."  
  
Hayama shoved his hands in his pockets and walked towards the front door.  
  
Sana stared after him, her eyes slightly open with surprise. "Where are you going?"  
  
"I'm going to get my things. I will be residing here, correct?" Hayama asked, looking over his shoulder.  
  
Sana nodded, confused about her bodyguard's coldness. "Yes."  
  
"I'll start today," he called, and walked out the front door.  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Well, that's it for now. I'm sorry if there are any spelling or grammatical errors, but I didn't have time to check. Please review! 


	3. Preparations

A/N: Hi! Okay, this chapter is mainly dialogue and some sappy stuff, but I hope you all enjoy it. By the way, is everyone in character? I was a bit worried about characters like Fuka and Takaishi because I haven't seen an episode with them, so I'm kind of blindly writing out their emotions. If you have any suggestions about them, please leave me a note in your review (you know you want to leave a review!).  
  
* * *  
  
Hayama trudged slowly up the spiraling marble staircase of the Kurata mansion, glancing around carelessly at the rich paintings displayed on the stark-white walls. He hauled his large suitcase behind him, ignoring the clattering sounds it made against the smooth surface of the steps, while hanging on to the gray duffle bag at his left side.  
  
'Damn mansions. They always have such long staircases,' he thought bitterly as he heaved up the winding flight of steps.  
  
Finally, Hayama's feet touched the level ground of the third story. He turned to his employer, mentally telling her to quickly show him where his room was.  
  
"This way," Sana murmured and led her bodyguard down the hallway.  
  
Hayama followed her wordlessly, the sound of his feet gliding across the thick, burgundy carpet filling the silence between the two. He took note of all the doors along the corridor, mildly wondering what rooms they led to. That was another issue he had with mansions. They had way too many rooms.  
  
"This is it," Sana said cheerfully, stopping at double-door room.  
  
She reached out with both hands and turned the elegant handles. The golden colored doors opened inwards to the darkness of the room. Sana reached out blindly for the light switch, squinting when the light filled the room with its bright radiance.  
  
Hayama stepped into the bedroom, taking in his surroundings.  
  
It was a fairly large room, with white walls bordered by gold paint. A four-poster bed stood against the left wall, dressed with a fluffy white comforter and gold pillows. Across from the behind against the right wardrobe, accompanied with a grand stereo system that seemed somewhat out of place in the fancy room. A bathroom was joined with the bedroom near his bed.  
  
Sana moved next to the silent man, smiling sheepishly.  
  
"I know it's kind of girly, but Mama and I never have any male guests over, aside from Rei-kun. But he has his own room in the house."  
  
"Whatever," Hayama replied, laying his stuff down. "As long as I have a place to sleep, I don't care."  
  
Sana nodded and started to back out. "I hope you'll be comfortable here, Hayama-san," she said, lowering her eyes to ground. "Lunch will be ready soon. Your friend is welcome to eat with us."  
  
Hayama nodded to her as she left the room.  
  
* * *  
  
"Maybe you should wipe the drool off of your face now, Fuka-chan." Aya smirked at her friend's ogling.  
  
Fuka stared at the wall dreamily, chin in her hands. "What a hunk," she commented in a misty voice.  
  
Aya sighed in contempt, visiting the same world in which Fuka was. "Especially his friend. Tsuyoshi-kun, was it?"  
  
A groan erupted from Sana's throat as she rolled her eyes. "You both are complete morons," she stated curtly, glaring at her two friends. "They're not here for your pleasure! In fact, one of them isn't going to be here at all!"  
  
Aya frowned, folding her arms across her chest. "He might be back later," she said, as if comforting herself.  
  
"What's got you so angry, anyway?" Fuka demanded, staring angrily at the actress for being brought out of her reverie.  
  
Sana shrugged, taking a bite out of her chicken leg. "Everything. First I get these creepy letters, then I see someone outside of my house one night, as if he was just waiting for me to come down and get that glass of water."  
  
The actress paused for a moment to take a sip of her iced tea before continuing. "Then I'm forced to hire some bodyguard, whose personality isn't any different from a block of ice. How the hell can he protect me from this psycho if he won't even talk to me?" she shrieked, breaking down into overly emotional whimpers.  
  
Aya bit off of her carrot stick, eyes squinted in concentration. "Maybe he'll warm up to you a bit during your shoot in America," she assured, glancing hopefully at Fuka.  
  
"Oh yeah!" Fuka piped up, catching Aya's clue. "Of course he will. He'll be with us - I mean, you - for a few months while you perform in the movie. Who wouldn't become even the tiniest bit friendly?"  
  
Sana tilted her head to the side, staring down at her plate. "I wonder why he's so distant in the first place," she mumbled, fiddling with the ties of her bathrobe.  
  
Fuka grinned, gulping down the rest of her lemonade. "It's your job to find out."  
  
Sana raised an eyebrow inquiringly at her hair stylist.  
  
"Oh, come on!" Fuka cried, exasperated. "You can't just leave all the warming up to HIM," she declared. "You've gotta do some of it too, you know."  
  
"I've been talking to him!" Sana defended.  
  
Aya shook her head slowly. "You've been kind of quiet, though. When he came here, you just sat and looked at your tea."  
  
The actress scowled at the true statement, taking another bite out of her lunch.  
  
Fuka's head bobbed up and down in agreement with Aya. "So start making peace with him, before I snatch him away from you!"  
  
"Hey!" Sana exclaimed, clutching the drumstick. "Quit acting like I'm trying to hang on to him! If you want him, take him!"  
  
Fuka's glittering eyes glanced mischievously at the make-up artist. "It's so amazing how naïve this girl can be."  
  
Aya heaved a disappointed sigh. "You are right, Fuka-chan. It really is."  
  
"What are you saying?!" Sana was beyond irritated now.  
  
"Sana-chan.." Fuka's voice suddenly became soft as she stared at her best friend, her eyes filled with concern. "Don't you ever plan to have a good relationship?" she inquired, furrowing her eyebrows. "I don't mean with Hayama-san specifically, but with anyone?"  
  
The hair-stylist sat back in her chair, taking another sip of her citrus drink. "I know what your problem is," she stated, staring knowingly at the teen actress. "You automatically put every guy on your 'brother' list. You don't even give one single thought about dating them."  
  
Sana cast her eyes downwards, releasing her death-grip on the chicken.  
  
"There were so many actors that would have loved to go someplace with you," Aya joined in, tapping her fingers on the furnished table. "But you always treated them as if they were..well, like Fuka-chan said: your brothers."  
  
The wooden chair creaked softly as Sana shifted in her seat. "But I can never know their feelings unless they tell me directly. Otherwise, I will treat them as if they were my brothers."  
  
Fuka slammed her hand down on the table, causing the dishes to rattle as if they were in the center of an earthquake.  
  
"That's what I mean by 'naïve,' stupid!" The hair-stylist glared angrily at her best friend, daring her to say otherwise.  
  
Sana's eyes widened in surprise at the dark-haired girl's sudden outburst. 'I hate it when she changes her mood so quickly!'  
  
"Let's not get into this right now, okay?" Aya looked back and forth between Fuka and Sana, hoping for the tension to cease. "They'll be down soon."  
  
Fuka sipped at her lemonade, keeping her angry eyes placed on Sana.  
  
Sana returned her best friend's gaze with a furious scowl, taking a vicious bite out of the drumstick.  
  
'So much for easing the tension,' Aya thought disappointedly before going back to nibbling her carrot.  
  
* * *  
  
"I think you're scaring her."  
  
"That's her problem."  
  
"Akito-kun!"  
  
"What?"  
  
The two bodyguards ran about the room, throwing comments back and forth. Tsuyoshi grit his teeth, trying desperately to get through to his partner, while Hayama calmly inspected his bedroom.  
  
Tsuyoshi heaved an angry sigh. "Can't you at least TALK to the girl?"  
  
"All I have to do is protect her from this stalker," Hayama replied without looking at his friend.  
  
Tsuyoshi weaved his fingers through his dark hair, ignoring the steam fogging up his glasses.  
  
"The way you're acting towards her, she probably thinks that YOU are her stalker!"  
  
"Let her. Maybe she'll fire me."  
  
"You know your dad wouldn't like that."  
  
Hayama stayed quiet, looking over his shoulder at the seething bodyguard.  
  
A few seconds passed by until he finally spoke. "What exactly do you expect to me to do?"  
  
Tsuyoshi stared defiantly at the cold man, crossing his arms. "Protect her like a friend would."  
  
Once again, the blonde bodyguard was quiet, glaring intently at Tsuyoshi.  
  
"I'm going downstairs," Tsuyoshi announced, abruptly leaving the room. "You should come, too," he called over his shoulder as he began the treacherous journey down the stairs.  
  
'It's not so easy for me to make friends,' was all Hayama could think as he followed Tsuyoshi down the marble steps.  
  
The two said nothing to each other, carefully making their way down the staircase, not wanting to slip on the smooth surface. Someone could easily break their neck if they were to fall.  
  
The bodyguards slowed their brusque walk to a stealthy creep as they heard voices from the kitchen.  
  
"..Otherwise, I will treat them as if they were my brothers."  
  
"That's why I mean by 'naïve,' stupid!"  
  
"Let's not get into this right now, okay? They'll be down soon."  
  
Hayama and Tsuyoshi exchanged curious glances as they waltzed into the bright kitchen, acting as if they heard nothing.  
  
Sana stiffened when the two men walked in, worried that they might have caught a piece of their conversation. But they looked pretty innocent, so she smiled and stood up.  
  
"You guys want anything?" she asked cheerfully, moving the refrigerator.  
  
Fuka gave a slight nod of approval when her eyes came in contact with the actress's, as if saying, 'Good. Keep going.'  
  
"Thanks, but we wouldn't want to trouble you," Tsuyoshi stated, smiling warmly.  
  
Sana waved her hand carelessly, pulling out some bread and different types of meat.  
  
"It's no trouble at all! I'll make you a sandwich," she declared, kicking the fridge door shut with the back of her heel. "What would you like on it?"  
  
Tsuyoshi nudged the silent man beside him, giving him a glare filled with warning. 'Answer her,' it shouted.  
  
Hayama averted his gaze to the smiling actress, bowing his head politely.  
  
"Ham and cheese would be fine. Thanks.." He trailed off, his eyes flickering to Tsuyoshi for a second.  
  
The brown-haired man smiled victoriously, turning his attention back to Sana. "I'll just have an apple."  
  
Sana's smile brightened as she began to prepare Hayama's sandwich. 'Maybe the ice is breaking,' she thought hopefully.  
  
"Aya-chan, can you pass an apple to Ohki-san?" the actress inquired, not looking up from the two pieces of bread on the counter.  
  
Aya nodded eagerly, picking a deep red apple from the fruit bowl and tossing it to Tsuyoshi. "There ya go," she said, smiling.  
  
Tsuyoshi caught the apple, grinning gratefully at the light-haired girl. "Thank you."  
  
Fuka looked at each person in the kitchen, suddenly feeling out of place. 'Well, maybe I'll receive threatening letters soon so I can hire a bodyguard.'  
  
* * *  
  
"Are you girls ready to go?" Tsuyoshi asked, starting to pick up their extremely heavy suitcases.  
  
Aya nodded, blushing slightly when he took her three enormous suitcases.  
  
"Yeah, just one more minute," Sana told them, running swiftly to the bottom of the stairs. She wrapped her arms around the tall woman standing there, smiling into her kimono. "Bye Mama, see you in a few months."  
  
Misako returned the hug, stroking her daughter's hair. "Be careful, Sana. And don't leave Hayama-san's side," she warned.  
  
Sana looked up at her mother, her eyes brimming with tears. "I won't. But you be careful too, okay?"  
  
A low, evil chuckle escaped the author's lips as she held a fan up to her face. "You don't need to worry about me. No one crosses me and lives!" The chuckle warped into a thunderous cackle, ringing through the halls of the mansion.  
  
Sana grinned broadly at her mother, hugging her once more. "Trust me - I believe you!"  
  
After the good-byes were exchanged between the three young women and Misako, they walked sulkily out the front doors.  
  
Sana was somewhat surprised to see Hayama carrying her four suitcases. 'He's really strong,' she thought, amazed at how he could carry the giant suitcases with no struggle at all. 'He probably works out every day.'  
  
Fuka whirled her head around, looking for her own luggage. "Now I know I placed everything right here on the front steps," she mumbled to herself, looking around for the bags.  
  
The hair-stylist found the grand duffle bags eventually - under the arms of a tall, handsome man, with spiked black hair. Her eyes widened in fright, first thinking he was a robber of some sort. But when she saw him gently place the bags in the trunk of a black Mercedes, she relaxed.  
  
The black-haired man grinned at Fuka, reassuring her where the luggage was. Fuka trotted over to him, eyebrows raised.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked, a flirtatious smile spreading across her face.  
  
"I'm Takaishi," he replied holding out his hand. "I work with Hayama and Tsuyoshi."  
  
Fuka took his hand, gazing intently at his face. 'Hunk,' was all she managed to think, while in the back of her mind she was thanking the gods that she didn't say it out loud.  
  
"O-Oh," Fuka stuttered after a moment. "I'm Fuka," she told him cheerfully, taking her hand back.  
  
Takaishi moved to the passenger side of the Mercedes, opening the door for the brunette. "Well Fuka-san, I'll drive you to the airport."  
  
Fuka nodded, still smiling, and climbed into the car.  
  
Aya watched the two as they conversed by the Mercedes, and then saw them get inside. She leaned back against a green SUV, briefly wondering whose it was.  
  
The make-up artist spotted Tsuyoshi walking to the SUV, her suitcases under his arms, as he made his way to the rear end of the car. He hauled the luggage into the trunk, closing it firmly when he was through.  
  
"I managed to get yours and Kurata-san's luggage to fit," he commented, sounding as if he achieved something impossible. "Both of you carry so much luggage. I had to bring this car rather than my Eclipse."  
  
Aya chuckled softly, a sheepish grin growing on her lips. "Well, we're gonna be there for a few months."  
  
"I'm sorry I won't be with you all for the first few weeks," he apologized, walking over to the passenger side to perform the same task as Takaishi. "But I might visit after my new case." The door tugged open as he motioned for Aya to climb in.  
  
Aya nodded gratefully as she stepped into the SUV. She could see Hayama walking coolly to one of the back doors, holding it open for the teen actress behind him.  
  
Sana whispered a joyful "Thanks!" before taking her seat in the back. Hayama sat across the seat from her, casually looking out the window.  
  
"Off to the airport, then?" Tsuyoshi called, turning the keys in the ignition. The car gave a quiet rumble as he began to pull out of the circular driveway.  
  
"Yep, and we'll meet with Rei-kun there," Sana confirmed, lying back in her seat. 'Maybe this won't be so bad after all..'  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: How was that? *grins sheepishly* Yeah, I know it was kind of sappy, but I felt sorry for Fuka. Well then, please review!  
  
-AngelFade: I agree with you on your opinion about Hayama!  
  
-ChibiSana: Thanks! I hope I won't disappoint you in the future chapters!  
  
-Sana-chan: Thanks a lot for reviewing (twice!). And I'm glad that the letters are creepy enough. I was kind of worried that they wouldn't turn out right.  
  
-Chash: Thank you! I hope you liked this chapter as well!  
  
-sTEPHANIE: I'm glad you think it's good!  
  
-Kitty Neko: I really want this to be a great fic. Thanks for reviewing! 


	4. Flight

A/N: Hey guys :) **sigh** Once again, this chapter contains mainly dialogue. But there is a bit of action, along with a little sappiness as well! What can I say? I'm a huge romantic. Oh, and the action part is slightly..well, I don't wanna say "violent," but it's not exactly rainbows and ponies material either. Well, I hope you all enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer (yeah, I forgot to do one last chapter): I don't own Kodomo No Omocha or the characters. Oh, and I also don't own the idea of the movie Sana talks about in this chapter (you all will recognize it!).  
  
* * *  
  
Sana glanced sideways at the golden haired bodyguard, noting the naturally calm expression on face as he stared out the front window. He lifted a coke can up to his lips, taking a sip before returning to his emotionless staring. The actress sighed inwardly, pondering the idea of him ever smiling.  
  
'I wonder what could make a guy so distant,' she thought while absently fanning herself with her hand. She hadn't wanted to be rude to the driver, and did her best to ignore the heat swelling inside of the SUV.  
  
Hayama's eyes flickered to Sana, and then fixed themselves upon his partner behind the wheel. "Hey. Turn the air on, will you? It's an inferno in here."  
  
Tsuyoshi paused in his conversation with Aya and looked at his best friend in the rear-view mirror.  
  
"Sorry, I didn't even notice," he apologized, cranking up the air conditioning.  
  
Hayama nodded casually and looked back out the window. 'You were too busy flirting with the make-up artist.'  
  
Sana smiled gratefully, only to turn her head disappointedly when she noticed he was back to staring out the front window.  
  
'It's depressing to see someone so cold. But he has gotten a bit better since our first meeting,' she admitted.  
  
"So, Kurata-san," Tsuyoshi started, after his exciting conversation about the wonders of Calculus with Aya had ended.  
  
Sana mentally shook her head, the other bodyguard's voice tugging her from her deep musings.  
  
"What kind of movie will you be starring in?" Tsuyoshi inquired.  
  
"It's going to be a romance/drama!" Sana stated happily, pulling her jean-covered legs up on the seat in a childish Indian-style sitting. "It's about a teenage girl in her senior year of high school, whose favorite class is English, but a group of bullies keep disrupting the class and causing all these problems. Later in the movie, she falls in love with the head bully."  
  
"Wow," Tsuyoshi muttered, eyebrows raised in interest. "But won't that be hard, posing in an American film?"  
  
Sana shook her head, beaming cheerfully. "No, my English is actually quite well," she declared in English, the words flowing nicely off of her tongue.  
  
"You're right," Tsuyoshi commented. "You don't have much of an accent."  
  
"Who's the head bully going to be?" Aya asked, turning around in her seat to stare inquiringly at the actress.  
  
Sana shrugged. "They're not sure yet, actually. They have the rest of the bullies cast for, but the lead male role hasn't been decided."  
  
"Shouldn't the final decision have already been made, though?" Tsuyoshi asked, his eyes squinted in concentration.  
  
"We don't start shooting for another two weeks. But since I have some family in Los Angeles anyway, I figured I go and visit for some time," the actress claimed.  
  
"Ah, I see," the dark-haired body guard murmured. "Akito-kun has some family there, too, you know."  
  
Sana averted her gaze to the silent man beside her. "Really?"  
  
Hayama nodded absently, staring out the window to his left. "My sister, Natsumi."  
  
"Natsumi," Sana echoed quietly, her eyebrows furrowed. She gasped with realization as it dawned on her. "The singer?!"  
  
"So you've heard of Natsumi-chan!" Tsuyoshi exclaimed, grinning broadly.  
  
Sana nodded eagerly, squirming around in her seat with excitement.  
  
"I absolutely LOVE her singing!" she shrieked.  
  
Aya giggled at her best friend, also shuffling around in the front seat.  
  
"I do, too!" she agreed. "Her voice is so beautiful and clear, yet strong and powerful," she said dreamily.  
  
Sana nodded in agreement, clasping her hands together. "Could we meet her?" she asked, gazing at Hayama, anticipation clearly written across her features.  
  
Hayama returned her intense look, noting the look of hope and anxiousness in her chestnut eyes.  
  
"Maybe," the blond bodyguard said offhandedly. "She's pretty busy, though."  
  
"Aw, I'm sure she could make time to see her own brother, Akito-kun," Tsuyoshi protested. "And besides, she's one of Kurata-san's biggest fans, right?"  
  
"Eh? Someone as famous as Natsumi-san is actually a fan of mine?" Sana asked incredulously.  
  
"Yeah, she is," Hayama replied, casually turning away from her. "She saw a lot of your movies while she was living in Japan."  
  
"Oh wow," Sana whispered, staring absently down at her lap.  
  
"I can't you believe you don't even realize how popular you really are, Sana-chan!" Aya chided.  
  
"Well, I don't want people to think that I'm arrogant," the actress defended.  
  
"You're so un-arrogant that you seem timid!"  
  
Sana scowled at her make-up artist, her hands perched on her hips. "You're starting to sound like Fuka-chan!"  
  
* * *  
  
"So, you like action movies?" Fuka asked, her eyebrow raised at the black-haired man driving.  
  
Takaishi nodded, briefly glancing at her. "I think I've seen about every war movie there is in Japan."  
  
Fuka laughed, gazing out the front window, up at the darkened azure sky. "Yeah, they're interesting. But I prefer to watch movies with some ROMANTIC action."  
  
The hair-stylist could hear a faint gagging noise coming from the man seated beside her.  
  
"Ugh, I don't think I could take a romance movie," Takaishi admitted, shaking his head in distaste. "A little romance is fine, but anything more is way too sappy."  
  
"Hmph. Just like a man to despise anything sweet," Fuka retorted, grinning saucily.  
  
"Hey, us men have to stick to our manly morals." Takaishi pounded his chest once with a curled fist, emphasizing his point. He cringed in pain afterwards, converting the pounding to a gentle massage.  
  
Fuka propped her feet up on the dashboard, chuckling while doing so. "Manly morals, huh?" she teased.  
  
"What a way for me to show-off in front of a cute girl," he mumbled, rubbing the sore spot on his chest.  
  
Fuka's eyes widened as a blush tinged her cheeks. 'ARGH! Stop blushing, you idiot!'  
  
Takaishi noticed her discomfort, concern clouding his face. "Something wrong?"  
  
The dark-haired girl shook her head instantly, smiling at him. "No, everything's fine!"  
  
A somewhat relieved smile crept over his lips. "Here's the airport," he commented, turning into the parking lot and following the green SUV.  
  
Fuka nodded, straightening herself up after the half-hour drive. 'And to think, I'll spend about fifteen hours in an airplane.'  
  
The black Mercedes pulled into an open parking spot, across from the SUV. Fuka climbed out of the front seat, while Takaishi immediately headed for the trunk to carry her luggage. The hair-stylist spotted Sana and Aya getting out of the SUV, with the other two men performing the same actions as they popped open the trunk.  
  
Fuka trudged over to her best friends. "How was your ride over here?" she asked, with a look in her eyes that clearly told them 'I had a FABULOUS time.'  
  
"We're going to meet Natsumi-san!" Sana squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.  
  
Fuka looked inquiringly at the hyper actress. "Huh?"  
  
"Calm down, Sana-chan," Aya murmured nervously, placing a hand on Sana's shoulder. "He said MIGHT."  
  
"Well, that's better than 'no way, forget it, absolutely out of the question'!" she protested.  
  
"Why would we see Natsumi-san in the first place?" Fuka asked disbelievingly.  
  
"Natsumi-san is Hayama-san's sister," Aya replied, trying to hold down the thrashing actress.  
  
"Yes, and we might meet her while we're in L.A!" Sana yelled cheerfully.  
  
"Let's not get our hopes up yet," Fuka suggested unsurely. "She might be too busy to meet us."  
  
Sana sighed and pouted, walking away from the two. "You guys are no fun!" she called over her shoulder.  
  
* * *  
  
"Last one," Hayama mumbled as he laid the last suitcase on the black gravel of the parking lot. He looked around, trying to spot the one he was supposed to be guarding.  
  
"Where could she be going now," the bodyguard grunted as he saw her retreating back. He sighed and strode after her.  
  
* * *  
  
Sana strolled aimlessly through the parking lot, savoring the soft breeze blowing against her skin, causing her loose hair to flow freely behind her. It was one of those moments, where she just had to have a moment alone. It was another one of her Zen-type exercises.  
  
'I haven't gotten any more letters lately. I should feel relieved. But why do I always have this feeling like someone is watching, waiting for his chance?'  
  
Sana stared up at the cobalt sky, the dancing stars reflecting in her chestnut eyes. 'He's really starting to piss me off,' she thought angrily.  
  
Her thoughts were completely shattered as she turned to face a couple of drunk, hooting men.  
  
"Hey there little missy," one of the men called, his words slurred as he staggered closer to the young actress. "How much?" he demanded.  
  
"Excuse me?" Sana asked, turning her head away from him in disgust as she inhaled the smell of his breath, caked with alcohol.  
  
The middle-aged drunk combed his fingers through his dark, greasy hair as his other grubby hand gripped Sana's upper-arm.  
  
"I hate to be teased," he whispered, staring unfocusedly at the brunette.  
  
"And I hate to be hit on by ugly perverts," Sana defended, wrenching her arm away from his sweaty grasp as she continued to walk forward.  
  
But, of course, that wasn't allowed to happen as the other drunken man gripped her wrist.  
  
"Hey, aren't you that young babe, Kurata Sana?" he asked, giving her a wet grin.  
  
Sana clenched her jaw as the first man placed his arm around her waist.  
  
"Come now," he crooned in her ear, while his hand stroked her hip. "We'll show you REAL entertainment."  
  
Sana struggled helplessly in his firm grasp, forcing herself to give a look of defiance rather than fear. "You fags," she muttered angrily. "Let go of me!"  
  
The man with his arm around her was almost instantly let go, causing Sana's eyes to widen in surprise. It was then that she heard the grunts of pain emanating from his cracked voice.  
  
"Huh?" Sana breathed, looking over her shoulder at the drunken man, sprawled across the gravel. She raised her eyes to the cold, menacing ones of her bodyguard.  
  
Hayama stared at the other man holding Sana's wrist. The drunk automatically removed his hand from her limb, backing up.  
  
"I don't do the 'leave now or else' speeches," Hayama stated flatly, preparing his fist for punch.  
  
The man groaned as blood poured from his nose, sinking to his knees.  
  
The golden-haired bodyguard placed his hand behind Sana's back, leading her back to the entrance of the airport where the others were supposedly waiting.  
  
"Thanks," Sana muttered as they neared the glass doors.  
  
"You shouldn't go off by yourself," her defender responded, though not in a chiding tone.  
  
"I can't help it," she replied softly. "I have to be alone sometimes."  
  
The pair was quiet as they opened the transparent doors, looking around for the rest of their party.  
  
"There!" Sana pointed to their group, with Rei and Hisae added to the cluster.  
  
The actress ran ahead of Hayama, beaming happily at them. "Hi!" she greeted.  
  
"Where were you? I was getting worried." Although his sunglasses shielded Rei's eyes, Sana could tell they were filled with concern.  
  
"I was just walking. I got a little carsick, that's all!"  
  
Hayama walked up behind her, folding his arms across his chest while looking around for their gate number.  
  
"We should board soon," he suggested, his eyes fixed on the line of people boarding their plane.  
  
Hisae nodded in agreement. "The luggage was already packed away, so we can just board now."  
  
Rei gently laid both his hands on Sana's shoulder, staring down into her eyes behind his dark glasses.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want me to come along?"  
  
Sana nodded. "I'll be gone for a few months. You should stay here with Asako-san." She smiled reassuringly at his pained expression. "Don't be such a worry-wart! I'll be fine!"  
  
"Don't you trust me enough to take on the job of her manager?" Hisae demanded, a smirk twisting her lips.  
  
A frown creased Rei's brow. "It has nothing to do with that," he whispered, staring intently at his actress.  
  
Sana nodded in understanding. "In that case, you just have to trust Hayama- san here."  
  
Rei turned his head to the quiet man, squinting his eyes in slight anger. There was just something about him that he couldn't stand.  
  
Aya stared at the diminishing line as more people boarded the plane. "We should really get going."  
  
"Yeah, or else we'll miss it," Fuka agreed. She turned to Takaishi, giving him a small smile. "I'll write to ya, okay?"  
  
Takaishi nodded, grinning at the dark brunette. "You better."  
  
Aya smiled shyly at Tsuyoshi. "I'd like to write you sometime, as well."  
  
"Please do. I'd love to hear from you!"  
  
"Come ON people!" Hisae urged, fed up with the stalling.  
  
"Okay, okay!" Sana embraced Rei in a hug, hurrying toward the plane afterwards. "Wait for us!" she shouted, waving her plane ticket in the air as the door started to close.  
  
Rei slowly took off his sunglasses, staring after his actress. 'Sana..I hope you will be alright.'  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Good? Bad? Does anyone totally despise it? Let me know! Please review! Oh, and sorry if there are any grammatical or spelling errors, but it's after midnight and I should really get some sleep. And also, I tend to sometimes leave out words on accident, making the sentence not make any sense at all. Sorry for that as well! :)  
  
-Illicit Water Dragon: Thanks a lot for your comments! I really try hard to create beginnings that will capture the reader's attention, so I'm glad that turned out okay!  
  
Kodokuchan: Thanks for reviewing! And I'm happy to know that the freaky side of my story is having an affect on some readers. I was afraid it would be to way too corny. 


	5. Scarlet Pool

A/N: Hi peoples! Well, for all you Sana/Hayama fans out there, this chapter is the beginning of some WAFF between those two. And trust me, plenty more is to come, so stay tuned for future chapters! Well, enough of my pointless babbling, here's chapter 5!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Kodomo No Omocha or any of the characters. Happy?  
  
* * *  
  
The white moon hung, suspended within the cobalt blanket of the night sky, parallel with the Delta Airlines plane flying east. The silvery light filtered through the misty gray clouds surrounding the hoary pendant, eventually pouring into an oval window of the plane.  
  
Sana stirred in her leather seat of the First Class compartment, her chestnut brown hair catching the angelic light sifting through the thick, windproof glass. Her fingers tightly clutched the navy blanket around her shoulders as her eyebrows furrowed nervously above her lidded eyes.  
  
"Mama..Rei-kun.." The mumble escaped her lips, flowing out in a quiet whisper. "Don't hurt them."  
  
The chocolate eyes of Hayama Akito trailed to his client's worried face as she slept, unable to find peace, even in the depths of her dreams. He casually reached over to cover one of her bare shoulders with the azure blanket, which had slid mid-way down her slender arm, despite her death grip on the cotton coverlet.  
  
The bodyguard sighed, leaning back against his leather seat. He assumed that he was the only one awake on the plane, taking note of all the snores erupting from the other passengers. Regardless of the frustrating noise, the hours alone had left him with nothing but his thoughts.  
  
The events of the earlier evening flashed through Hayama's mind as he recalled the encounter with the two drunks. 'Damn fags,' he thought angrily to himself, and at the same time masking his emotions with a face of indifference.  
  
He remembered following Sana stealthily, as she strayed further away from the main party, and then laying eyes on the two men. One had his arm gripping her waist, while his other hand clasped onto the actress's arm. The scene had enraged the young bodyguard, and he couldn't stop himself as he lunged forward at the offending drunk.  
  
Not that he WANTED to stop himself, anyway.  
  
'Retarded perverts. They could at least find women their own ages to hit on.'  
  
Hayama glanced at the murmuring actress beside him as he spoke again in her restless slumber. His arm extended to her side of the row, gently shaking her out of the chaos going on in her mind.  
  
Sana's eyes fluttered open, her coffee colored orbs gaining a look of haziness.  
  
"Wake up," she heard the soft command from beside her.  
  
The actress's slim arms stretched out in front her, small cracking noises surfacing from her joints. She rolled her head to the side, peering at the golden-haired man seated beside her.  
  
"Hmm?" she breathed softly, her eyes still halfway lidded.  
  
Hayama stared into her unfocussed eyes, finding worry and anxiety in the russet pools.  
  
"You were talking in your sleep," he told her, lowering his voice so as to not wake the other travelers.  
  
Not that he CARED if they woke up, anyway. But he didn't want to deal with cranky attitudes at the moment.  
  
"Sorry," she whispered softly before returning to her sleeping position.  
  
Hayama sat back and continued to stare straight ahead, waiting for the girl's breathing to steady, for that would signify that she went back to sleep. The slight sniffles and deep breathes proved otherwise though, as he peered over at her open eyes.  
  
"Why don't you go back to sleep?" he suggested, as her eyes averted to his.  
  
"Why don't you?" the teen actress challenged.  
  
Hayama made no shrug or gesture, the only part of him moving being his lips. "I'm not tired."  
  
"Maybe not," she reasoned, staring defiantly at her bodyguard. "But the real reason is because you have to watch me, isn't it?"  
  
Hayama continued to stare at her, now detecting a hint of guilt in her glittering eyes.  
  
"Get rid of that guilt," he demanded softly. "I'm trained for this."  
  
Sana smiled at him in understanding, seating herself upright.  
  
"You can sleep. I'll wake you up if anything happens," she assured.  
  
Hayama narrowed his eyes slightly at the naivety of his client.  
  
"And what can you do?" he inquired, furrowing his eyebrows in uncertainty.  
  
The very next moment, Hayama was forced to clutch his head in pain, a large bump rising from his throbbing scalp. He looked up at the grinning actress, surprise making itself known in his angered eyes.  
  
Sana chuckled evilly, a habit she picked up from her mother, as she held the plastic toy mallet in her right hand.  
  
"That," she told him, sticking out her tongue.  
  
"Give me that," he grunted, trying to pry the death mallet from her fingers.  
  
"No way!" Sana whispered hoarsely, pulling her hand back and aiming for his head again.  
  
Hayama's hand shot up in god-like speed, catching her wrist before the mallet came into contact with his already pained head. He twisted the limb, only enough for the lethal weapon to fall out of her grasp before he could do any real damage. His other hand quickly snatched it away.  
  
The bodyguard continued to stow the mallet away safely, bending his head slightly to look underneath his seat. Once again, a groan emanated from his throat as his hands shot to his head again, a new bump forming. He glared threateningly at the actress beside him, for she now held a paper fan.  
  
"You can never win, Hayama Akito!" she whispered, smiling victoriously.  
  
Hayama blinked at the paper fan, his eyes trailing up to meet hers. "Doesn't that belong to the other girl?"  
  
Sana nodded. "Yup, I stole it from her while you were bending over to put away my mallet," she declared, pointing to the seat in front of her, which belonged to the hair-stylist.  
  
Hayama stared incredulously at her, before rolling his eyes and leaning back comfortably against the leather seat.  
  
"You're a different one," he mumbled, glaring at the seat in front of him.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sana nodding eagerly.  
  
"Yeah," she agreed, standing up to look over Fuka's seat, replacing the paper fan in her "secret hiding place."  
  
She sat down again, leaning back as well. "Well, goodnight Hayama-san."  
  
"Hayama," the bodyguard corrected, stealing another glance at her. " 'Hayama-san' is what people call my dad. And I thought you weren't tired?"  
  
A smile surfaced on her smooth lips as she closed her eyes. "I don't think I'll have any more nightmares tonight. I'm too happy right now," she whispered dreamily, before slipping into a deep slumber.  
  
Hayama gazed at her, shaking his head in bewilderment. 'A REALLY different one.'  
  
* * *  
  
The brilliant golden rays of the yellow sun spilled through the windows of the plane, coloring the interior of Sana's eyelids a bright red. The thin folds covering her eyes slowly lifted open, greeted with the bustling of stewardesses and passengers, bringing their luggage down from the high shelves.  
  
"Geez. I swear, if you had slept for another minute, I would have whacked you so hard and send you flyin' out that window!"  
  
Sana's eyes widened in surprise as she looked up to see Fuka's face peering down into hers own. After shaking her head a few times to knock out the drowsiness, the young actress sat up attentively in her seat.  
  
"Is it time to go already?" she asked the brunette.  
  
Fuka nodded, pulling one of her smaller, gray duffle bags down, letting it land on the floor with a loud "thud."  
  
"Well, we still have about twenty minutes actually, since we haven't really landed. But we might as well get our smaller luggage out now, right?"  
  
Sana shrugged, standing up to stretch. "All I brought on the plain was a book bag," she replied, yawning afterwards.  
  
Fuka rolled her eyes at the sleepy actress. "You yawn as if you didn't get a wink of sleep last night, and I know you did! You were asleep before I was!"  
  
Sana froze midway through a yawn, her eyes bugging out at her conversation with the golden-haired bodyguard.  
  
The brunette smiled mischievously at her best friend, perching her hands on her hips.  
  
"I knew it!" she exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Sana. "You and Hayama-kun were getting 'better acquainted'!"  
  
Sana finished through with her yawn, waving a hand carelessly at the babbling hair-stylist.  
  
"Nah, I was just remembering a few nightmares from last night, about IT," she lied coolly, sighing with frustration.  
  
The accusing glare in Fuka's eyes was replaced by sympathy as she lowered her arm.  
  
"You're having NIGHTMARES now?" she inquired, mouth open.  
  
Sana nodded, hoping that she had convinced her friend. "So, where's Hayama?" she asked, noticing the empty seat beside her.  
  
"In the restroom. And when did you start leaving off the '-san'?" Fuka demanded.  
  
Sana rolled her eyes, not believing how determined her best friend could be at times.  
  
"He told me not to. Happy?"  
  
Fuka stared suspiciously at the young actress, slowly walking down the aisle to the restrooms.  
  
Sana flounced back onto the cushioned leather, gazing out the window. Below, she could the busy city of Los Angeles, with ant-sized cars roaring down the paved roads, and micro-people walking down the sidewalks and entering the various stores. Further up ahead, she could see the airport, which was approaching rapidly.  
  
"Ever been to L.A. before?"  
  
Sana jumped as the cool voice of her bodyguard reached her ears, as she nodded.  
  
"Twice," she replied. "Both times, I resided with Mami-chan, my cousin."  
  
Hayama's eyes reverted to the oval window, settling on the nearing airport. 'Why haven't we descended at all, yet?'  
  
"Hey, shouldn't we have already started to drop a bit?" Sana questioned, furrowing her eyebrows as she gazed at the immense building. Even from this altitude, she could tell it was huge.  
  
Right at the moment, the plane shook violently, causing rattling noises to echo throughout the corridors. Sana almost fell forward, clutching onto her armrests.  
  
"Be right back," was all Hayama said as he started to walk brusquely down the aisle.  
  
Sana stared after him, setting her face into a look of determination. She shot up out of her seat, pursuing her bodyguard.  
  
Hayama pulled open the door to the cockpit, stepping inside the front cabin. He clenched his jaw as he laid his eyes on the limp body sprawled across the floor, drenched in its own crimson blood. Kneeling down, he inspected the deep piercing wounds across the dead man's abdomen, confirming that a knife had been used to stab him to death.  
  
A muffled cry echoed throughout the cabin, alerting Hayama that someone else had entered the room. He whipped his head around, his arms raised, ready to strike.  
  
Sana stood with her hands covering her mouth, eyes wide with terror at the crimson pool growing on the carpeted floor. One man was limp on the floor, another one in a chair near the front.  
  
Hayama slowly lowered his arms back down to his sides, staring up into her anguished expression.  
  
"Kurata," he mumbled, his eyes tracing her horrified expression. "You should have stayed at your seat."  
  
Sana only shook her head slightly, her gaze traveling from the man in the chair to the front window.  
  
"Me..m-my fault..now dead," she said into the palms of her shaking hands, staring intently at the window in front of her.  
  
Hayama stood up, looking directly into her eyes, which were over- flowing with rivers of tears.  
  
"It could have been anyone," he reasoned with her, trying to keep her calm. "It doesn't necessarily have to be your-"  
  
"Look," Sana cut him off, peeling one of her palms off of her face to point at the window.  
  
Hayama swiveled around, his eyes scanning the glass. He glared at the threatening note written there, pained in scarlet blood. ' "Kurata Sana," ' he began reading to himself, ' "Even flying across the ocean will not rid you of me. I will be watching you, showing my love for you in many ways. Until next time.." '  
  
Hayama turned back to face the shocked actress after reading the note. Almost immediately, she fell against his chest, her whole body wracking with brutal sobs. Not knowing what else to do, he wrapped his lean arms around her trembling figure, holding her tight as if to stop the vicious shudders.  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Gah! THAT was disturbing to write. Well anyway, sorry if there are any spelling or grammatical errors, but once again, I didn't have time to check. But please please please review! I'm lookin' to get to 15 reviews and beyond before posting the next chapter, 'cuz I'm feelin' a bit unmotivated since I only received one review for my last chapter. So please review!!  
  
-IWD: Hi again! Thanks for reviewing, and I hope the threatening letter added enough suspense for ya! 


	6. A Phone Call

A/N: Wow, I'm so sorry this took a bit long to get out, but I've been incredibly busy. School, projects, and also boot camp *cringes* have been keeping me occupied. Especially the boot camp part. Let me tell ya somethin', even if it was just NJROTC boot camp, it was still a helluva lot to do. I swear, I've got bruises all over my legs, and a robe burn behind my right knee. I also suffered a horrible migraine, and spent one night crying in my perfectly made bunk bed.  
  
Well anyway, I really want to thank you all for your wonderful reviews!! I went from 12 to 28! *squeals* I'm glad you all like it! Well, enough stalling, here's chappie 6!  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own it. 'Nuff said.  
  
* * *  
  
Sana wept quietly, trying to claw out the images of blood and limp bodies that were clouding her mind. The scene of two men stabbed to death was deeply engraved in her brain, along with the stench of the crimson liquid they shed. Her nose scrunched up in response to the musty smell lingering about her nostrils.  
  
The young actress prayed that this wasn't happening, that maybe it was just another scene from one of her movies. But then again, she never liked playing a part in horror movies. They were always too brutal and gruesome for her, and usually wrapped her heart in a heavy curtain of depression. Just seeing actors smothered with corn syrup was enough to make her eyes water.  
  
The real thing was much worse. Especially when she was the cause of the murder in the first place.  
  
So there Sana stood, sobbing against her bodyguard's chest while clinging to his shirt, trying to blot everything out. But in spite of it all, being locked in his embrace was somewhat comforting, as her cries died out slowly. Maybe it was because he was so calm about it, his tranquility somehow relaxing her.  
  
"Kurata."  
  
Sana wearily tilted her head up to meet his gaze, her eyes red and swollen.  
  
"Is he," she started, searching his expressionless face for an answer to her next question, "..on this plane?"  
  
Hayama stared down at his client, slowly unraveling his arms from around her frail figure.  
  
"Most likely," he replied honestly, taking in her pained expression.  
  
"My friends are out there!" Sana yelled hoarsely, pointing to the wooden door behind her.  
  
Hayama nodded, stepping over the corpse on the floor and seating himself in the pilot's seat.  
  
"We shouldn't bring them in here," he claimed, automatically taking control of the plane. "It's okay. He won't attack them publicly."  
  
Sana swallowed harshly, crouching down against the wall on her bodyguard's side. She watched as he controlled the mechanical bird with ease, dropping further and further down toward the L.A. airport.  
  
"Where did you learn to fly?" she asked softly, resting her chin on her knees.  
  
Without turning his head, Hayama responded to the choked question.  
  
"My uncle was a pilot. I used to take lessons from him when I was young. My father always wanted me to be perfect in everything, so he encouraged it. He told me that a bodyguard must always be prepared for anything and everything."  
  
Sana winced at his lack of emotion. She loved what she did, but how did he feel about his job?  
  
"Do you like being a bodyguard?" Sana asked hesitantly.  
  
"I don't hate it."  
  
"It must be hard though," she confirmed, closing her eyes in thought. "Always being around your client every hour of every day, never being able to relax because he or she might get hurt while you're resting your eyes."  
  
Her own eyes opened, as she stared at his profile. "Doesn't it get tiring?"  
  
Hayama glanced sideways at the musing actress, while the plane neared the runway.  
  
"Sometimes. But it's worth it."  
  
Sana tilted her head to the side, furrowing her eyebrows.  
  
"How?"  
  
"My life," he started, as the aircraft bounced slightly as the wheels hit the pavement, "isn't that great, but at least I can protect someone's that is."  
  
'How gloomy,' Sana thought as she rose to her feet. 'But noble. So he DOES care about other people..'  
  
* * *  
  
"Sana-chan, are you alright?"  
  
Sana looked up from her seat near the baggage claim area in response to Aya's voice.  
  
"I'll be fine," she declared, plastering a grin on her lips.  
  
"I can't believe someone killed the pilots!" Fuka exclaimed, shuddering afterwards for effect.  
  
"I can't believe we were on the plane when someone killed the pilots," Hisae chimed in, her eyes still wide with shock.  
  
"I'm really sorry," Sana apologized quietly.  
  
The young actress fell out of her chair, landing on the rough carpet brutally. She glared at her hair-stylist, scrambling into a sitting position.  
  
"What was THAT for?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes at the paper fan clutched tightly in her best friend's fingers.  
  
Fuka extended her arm, pointing the fan at Sana.  
  
"For being sorry! It is NOT your fault!"  
  
"Yes it is!" Sana protested. "He killed them because of ME!"  
  
"That might be so," Fuka agreed, before continuing with her rant. "But it's not like you're ASKING him to stalk you!"  
  
"Fuka-chan is right," Aya spoke, staring sympathetically at her best friend. "Whatever he does is his own fault for being a demented pervert. You have no control over this."  
  
"Just let Hayama-san handle this," Hisae suggested. "It has to be one of the passengers on the plane, right?"  
  
"It should have been," a cool voice interjected.  
  
Sana stood up, wringing her hands nervously.  
  
"What did the police say?"  
  
Hayama leaned against the wall casually, his eyes scanning her worried features.  
  
"They couldn't find any clues. There were no fingerprints anywhere. Not even of the knife used to kill them."  
  
Sana wrung her hands tighter, staring at her bodyguard anxiously.  
  
"So..so he's still around?"  
  
Hayama gave a slow nod, turning his head to face the gate they came out of when they exited the plane.  
  
"The police are questioning all of the passengers, but I doubt they'll find anything. I have a feeling this guy knows how to cover up his tracks."  
  
"What do we do now?" Fuka asked, staring angrily at the floor.  
  
Hayama shrugged. "We'll go to Kurata's cousin's house, as planned," he confirmed, leaning over to grab the last suitcase.  
  
Silent filtered throughout the group as they began collecting their individual bags. The girls struggled with their suitcases, having to carry them themselves now.  
  
Hisae straightened up, a duffel bag strapped across her shoulder and a suitcase held in her right hand. She took on a look of surprise as she spotted a man making his way to them.  
  
"Gomi?" she called out, raising an eyebrow at the dark-haired man.  
  
Gomi waved, stopping once he stood in front of her.  
  
"Hey, Hisae-kun."  
  
Hisae's face changed from surprise to fury as she narrowed her eyes at the tall man.  
  
"I thought I told you to be here at noon! God, can't you ever be on time?!"  
  
Gomi shrugged, smiling apprehensively. "Sorry, but L.A. traffic is the worst. Besides, I'm only fifteen minutes late!"  
  
"That's fifteen more minutes for me to wait," Hisae replied saucily, immediately handing him her luggage. "You can carry these as an apology."  
  
"Carry your own luggage, woman. I'm just the chauffeur today."  
  
Hayama eyed the new stranger suspiciously as the two bickered.  
  
"Who is he?" he asked Sana, taking one of the suitcases from her hand.  
  
"Hisae-chan's boyfriend," Sana replied, still not used to having him carry her luggage.  
  
"He moved to L.A. just after she started working with us," Aya told him.  
  
"Since then, they've been having a long distance relationship," Fuka joined in. "But don't worry, they always act like this."  
  
Hayama nodded, stepping in-between the couple. "We should go," he stated, walking toward the exit.  
  
Gomi shrugged and slung an arm around Hisae's shoulders, which she shook off disgustingly. He smirked, following the bodyguard. "My van's out front."  
  
* * *  
  
"Mami-chan!" Sana squealed, running across the driveway to hug her cousin.  
  
"Sana-chan, I'm so happy to see you!" Mami replied, hugging her back. "Fuka-chan! Aya-chan!" she exclaimed, spotting the other two behind Sana's shoulder.  
  
Fuka grinned, winking at the raven-haired girl.  
  
"In the flesh!"  
  
The van's passenger door slammed shut as Hisae glared angrily at her boyfriend, who was unloading the trunk.  
  
"I TOLD you it would be quicker to take the other route here. We could have been here in ten minutes instead of thirty-five!"  
  
Gomi rolled his eyes, dropping his girlfriend's luggage roughly on the sidewalk.  
  
"Ah, get over it. I got us here, didn't I?"  
  
Hisae turned her nose in the air as she retrieved her suitcases and walked haughtily off to join the three other girls.  
  
"Women," Gomi muttered, shutting the trunk. He turned to face the blonde bodyguard, who was gathering Sana's luggage. "So you carry her stuff? What a gentleman."  
  
"You should try it sometime," he replied tonelessly, walking across the front lawn and stopping in front of the three story, red brick house.  
  
"You have such a pretty house," Aya commented, gawking at the enormous building.  
  
"Yeah," Fuka agreed. "It's huge. Does being a veterinarian make good money?"  
  
Mami chuckled, running her fingers through her ebony hair.  
  
"If you know how to do your job. It isn't just about nursing animals, you know. It's also about loving them and caring for them, as if they were your own children. I stop at nothing until they get better. I think that's why most people place their pets in my hands."  
  
Sana grinned at her cousin, her eyes twinkling with admiration.  
  
"I'm glad your dream of starting a career in America turned out so great. You always talked about moving out of Japan and becoming a pet doctor."  
  
Mami shrugged, smiling nervously.  
  
"Well, it was hard, but once I started, it just kept getting better."  
  
"Let's go inside," Fuka suggested, walking eagerly up the steps. "I'm dieing to see the inside!"  
  
* * *  
  
"Sana-chan?" Mami asked, concern seeping into her voice. "Are you okay?"  
  
Sana glanced up at her cousin's worried face as she poked the steak on her dinner plate with her fork.  
  
"I'm fine. Just a little jumpy."  
  
Mami nodded in understanding. That afternoon, everyone had sat down in the living room, and explained the story to both Mami and Gomi. Mami was beyond shocked, and kept asking Sana if she was all right. Gomi was just speechless, and stayed close to Hisae.  
  
Sana sighed and slumped back against her chair, staring blankly at her plate.  
  
"Take this."  
  
The actress looked up at her bodyguard as he held out a silver cellular phone.  
  
"It's my sister," Hayama told her.  
  
Sana's face brightened immediately as she snatched the phone and eagerly put it to her ear.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Sana-chan!" a cheery voice rang in her ear.  
  
"Natsumi-chan!" Sana grinned widely, fidgeting in her seat.  
  
"My brother told me you were in L.A. I was hoping we could get together sometime! I'm a HUGE fan of yours!"  
  
"I'm a fan of yours, too! My friends and I just love your singing!"  
  
A chuckle was heard over the phone as Natsumi spoke again.  
  
"Well, why don't we all meet for lunch tomorrow, around noon?"  
  
Sana bobbed her head up and down, before realizing the singer couldn't see it.  
  
"Of course! We'd love to!"  
  
"Great! Akito gave me directions to your cousin's house, so I'll come and pick you all up. My treat, okay?"  
  
"No no no no no! I could never make you pay for all of us!"  
  
"It's nothing, really," Natsumi insisted. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"  
  
Sana gave a slight chuckle and nodded. "Okay."  
  
After they hung up, Sana handed the phone back to her bodyguard.  
  
"Thank you, Hayama," she said sincerely, smiling with gratitude.  
  
Hayama gave a curt nod before taking his seat beside her.  
  
"Well," Sana started looking at the inquiring faces around her. "Natsumi-chan is taking us out to lunch tomorrow!"  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors, but I didn't have time to check. Please review! 


	7. Lunch with the Singer

Author's Note: Hello! Sorry for yet another semi-long wait, but my all my teachers decided to throw some end of the quarter exams last week, which I was forced to cram for. Hey, at least I got a 97% on my Algebra II test! Well, I'm gonna answer just a few reviews up here.  
  
AngelFade - Nah, as far as I'm concerned, Mami's gonna live!  
  
Ledophole - I know, who doesn't want to see some action between those two? But I really don't wanna rush 'em. We all know how long it takes for Sana to realize her feelings!  
  
Harmony - I COMPLETELY agree with you. Unfortunately, I realized my huge mistake a few days AFTER I put the chapter out, so it was kind of late. But, I wasn't just going to leave that incident alone. Read this chapter for more details!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Kodomo No Omocha or any of its characters. But, starting in this chapter, I do own Genji Mirou and Okura Saichirou. Wanna know who they are? Read on! Oh, and I also don't own the name "El Cinco de Mayo." That's the name of a restaurant near where I live that I'm using in this chapter. I have no idea if there's one in L.A, since I live on the east coast.  
  
* * *  
  
It was such a peaceful day.  
  
The sun shone radiantly in the bright sky, like a penny folded in a blue blanket. Birds wafted through the air, enjoying the warm rays of early April. Some of the neighbors went about their yards, planting various flowers and mowing their lush, green lawns. A black Labrador ran swiftly on the sidewalk, happily chasing after a squirrel.  
  
It really was such a peaceful day.  
  
Unfortunately, the tranquility didn't reach a certain red brick house.  
  
"Aya-chan!!"  
  
Aya sighed, standing up from her vanity seat. She placed her light pink lipstick down on the glass surface, walking to the doorway of her bedroom.  
  
"Yes, Sana-chan?" she asked calmly.  
  
Sana swung open the door leading to her own bedroom, leaning out by bracing herself against the doorframe. Her hair was picked up halfway, falling to her shoulders in soft, spiral curls.  
  
'Fuka must've done her hair,' Aya mused. 'So now she wants..'  
  
"Aya-chan, I need your help with my make-up!" the young actress begged, a pleading look planted on her pretty features.  
  
'Make-up,' Aya finished her thought, grinning saucily at her employer and friend while lounging idly against the doorway.  
  
"How much are you willing to pay me?" she teased, looking at her polished fingernails.  
  
The pleading look on Sana's face was instantly replaced with one of confusion.  
  
"Pay?"  
  
Aya giggled at the actress's reaction. Really, the girl took things way too literally. But then again, the three of them were preparing to meet Hayama Natsumi, one of the most famous singers in Japan and America. But Sana was famous, too. There was really no reason for her to be so nervous.  
  
The make-up artist looped a lock of her light brown hair behind her ear, internally shoving the butterflies out of her own stomach. She wasn't afraid to admit it; she was incredibly nervous as well. It's one thing for a famous actress to have lunch with a famous singer, but where the heck did the make-up artist fit into everything?  
  
Aya wasn't jealous of Sana. She was perfectly content with her own role, doing her best friend's make-up. But it always felt kind of silly introducing herself as "Kurata Sana's make-up artist" to other famous persons. She didn't belong up their with the big-time people. That's what she thought, at least.  
  
"I'm kidding," Aya assured, making her way across the hall to her best friend's room.  
  
Sana grinned, stepping aside to let the brunette in.  
  
Aya stepped onto the cream colored carpet, her mint green heels making slight indentions in the plush lining. She immediately noticed Fuka putting away her expensive set of curlers, confirming her earlier assumptions about Sana's hair.  
  
"So," Aya started, taking in her employer's outfit. "You're definitely wearing that?"  
  
"Uh-huh. Does it look okay?" Sana asked, turning around slowly so her friend could see the whole ensemble.  
  
Aya nodded, approving the dark blue, denim skirt and turquoise tank top - semi-formal, not too casual, yet not too fancy. A good choice for a simple lunch date.  
  
Except it wasn't all that simple, considering they were going out to eat with an incredibly famous singer.  
  
Once again, Aya had to shake off the wave of nervousness that took over her senses. She grinned reassuringly at her friend.  
  
"You look great! Now, as for eye-shadow, let's try 'Ice Mirage,'" she said, picking up the silvery-blue make-up.  
  
* * *  
  
Hayama paced slowly at the foot of the stares, throwing glances at the clock now and then. His sister was ten minutes late.  
  
'You'd think after all these years in her singing career, she'd be more punctual,' he thought grumpily. But in a way, it was a good thing. The girls weren't ready yet, either.  
  
The bodyguard's thoughts lingered a bit on his client. 'I wonder how she's handling everything.'  
  
His memory reeled back to the previous morning, on the plane. He clearly remembered her soft whimpers as she cried against his chest, imprisoned within his arms. It was a shame for someone as pretty as her to shed tears over something that wasn't even her fault.  
  
'Pretty, eh?" he pondered to himself. 'Yeah, she's alright.'  
  
A sharp ringing sound stabbed through the silence as Hayama's cell phone went off. He reached into the black pocket of his dark blue jeans, flipping the phone open as he held it up to his hears.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Mr. Hayama, this is Detective Warren of the L.A. police."  
  
"What do you have for me, Mr. Warren?" Hayama answered, switching into his fluent English tongue.  
  
Detective Warren continued on eagerly. "A few strands of hair were found on the main pilot's corpse. A few of my fellow detectives searched the personal files of all passengers on the plane. Since the strands were of a red color, we were able to narrow it down to four persons. One of those four was a man named Genji Mirou."  
  
"Mirou," Hayama mumbled into the speaker.  
  
"You know him?"  
  
"Yeah. He's a murderer that just got out of jail two weeks ago."  
  
"Not just any murderer," Warren told him. "Before he was in the Tokyo jailhouse, he lived in an asylum. After he was released, he went out and dyed his hair red."  
  
"Have you spoken to him, yet?" Hayama asked.  
  
"That's what I called you about. We brought him here to station, and found loads of pictures in his coat. Every single one of them was of that actress."  
  
Hayama furrowed his eyebrows the slightest bit. "It seems too easy."  
  
"It does," Warren agreed. "But it's not. Mirou kept mumbling about just 'being one in the group,' and would then scream out that more would come. My guess is that there's a ring."  
  
"So it's not over," Hayama murmured. "Could you get anything else out of him?"  
  
"Nothing. Like I said, the guy's insane."  
  
Hayama sighed, looking out the window as a shiny, white car pulled into the circular driveway. A loud horn erupted throughout the silence settling on the front lawn, followed by squeals of excitement from the third floor of the house.  
  
"Alright. Call me if you get any more information." With that, he shut off his phone and opened the door to greet his sister, who was making her way to the front steps.  
  
"Akito, long time no see," the singer said, a wide smile on her face.  
  
"Was the point of honking the horn if you were going to get out of the car?"  
  
Natsumi playfully smacked his arm. "Still the same grouch, as always."  
  
"Natsumi-san?" a timid voice called from the marble stairway. Sana cautiously stepped down, not wanting to trip in her black heels.  
  
"Sana-chan!" Natsumi greeted pushed past her younger brother into the front entrance. She shook the actress's trembling hand, while smiling up at the two other girls a step above.  
  
"Hello," the light-haired one waved shyly.  
  
The one with darker hair bounded down the steps happily. "Hi! Matsui Fuka, pleased to meet you!" she said cheerfully, shaking the singer's free hand. "The 'talkative' one over there is Aya," she explained, pointing to the silent brunette.  
  
"It's nice to meet all of you," Natsumi stated, fingering the car keys placed around her index finger. The ring swiveled around for a bit as she grinned at the group. "Shall we go?"  
  
Sana nodded returning the bright smile. "Where to?"  
  
"I was thinking about 'El Cinco de Mayo.' It's a Mexican restaurant," Natsumi explained as she stepped over the threshold and waltzed down the front steps.  
  
"Mexican, huh?" Sana thought aloud. "I've never had Mexican before."  
  
"It's delicious," Natsumi told them, opening the door of her white Cadillac. "You like Mexican, don't you Akito?"  
  
"I don't hate it," the bodyguard replied as he stepped into the passenger seat.  
  
Sana, Aya, and Fuka filed into the backseat, which was quite spacious. Sana fastened her seatbelt while surveying the car.  
  
"Nice car," Aya complimented, running her fingers over the leather interior.  
  
"She speaks!" Fuka exclaimed, feigning a look of shock.  
  
Natsumi chuckled as she saw the other girl's scowl through the rear- view mirror.  
  
Hayama folded his arms across his broad chest, glancing sideways at his sister. "How is Saichirou?" he asked, no emotion behind his words.  
  
Natsumi grinned. "Okura-kun? He's fine," she commented, looking down at the diamond ring on her finger. "He's still a little upset that I didn't take on his last name, but he'll get over it."  
  
The singer stared back into the rear-view mirror, her eyes focused on the back seat. "By the way, where are your manager and cousin?"  
  
"Mami-chan had an emergency at the clinic," Fuka explained, "and Hisae-chan is out with Gomi-kun."  
  
"Oh, the manager is a female?" Natsumi questioned, raising an eyebrow as she turned the key in the ignition.  
  
"She's the assistant manager," Fuka went on. "Rei-kun is Sana-chan's real manager, but we left him in Japan."  
  
"I see. So, Sana-chan," Natsumi started, the engine purring as it came back to life, "Is my brother treating you nicely?"  
  
Sana shifted uncomfortably in her seat behind the driver. "Well, nothing really big has happened yet, but he's kept me safe."  
  
"Good to know," Natsumi commented as her car drove smoothly down the paved streets.  
  
* * *  
  
The white Cadillac pulled into a perpendicular parking space in front of the Mexican restaurant. "We're here," the singer declared, unlocking the doors to let her friends out.  
  
Sana stepped out slowly, intense smells filling her nostrils instantly. "It smells great!"  
  
Aya inhaled deeply, the smell emanating from the food inside filling her lungs. "Let's go on, I'm starving."  
  
Hayama glanced around, looking for any suspicious figures. A man was reading the newspaper as he lounged against a lamppost. A woman was walking her golden retriever, or rather, IT was walking HER. A few kids were playing with a jump rope on the sidewalk. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The bodyguard placed a gentle hand on the small of Sana's back, guiding her forward to the restaurant.  
  
Natsumi watched the actions of her younger brother, allowing a mischievous smile to crease her lips. She remembered the way he acted around his previous client - some daughter of a wealthy businessman in Japan. He was very irritated with the blonde girl, and never showed an ounce of anxiety for her. At least he finished the job.  
  
The way Hayama was when he stood by the young actress slightly surprised Natsumi. She could see the concern flickering in his eyes every now and then, and his protective gestures. For someone who had known him for eighteen years, it was easy to pick out.  
  
The bell above the glass door jingled musically as Natsumi entered, followed by the rest of her party. "Natsumi Hayama with a reservation for 12:30," she told the hostess.  
  
The girl's eyes widened at the sight of the famous singer, as she rummaged for a piece of paper. Not finding anything, she settled for a loose napkin. "C-Could you sign this, please?" she stuttered, holding out the napkin and a ballpoint pen.  
  
Natsumi smiled. "Sure," she agreed, signing her name on the paper- towel.  
  
"Right this way," the hostess squeaked, folding the autograph and placing it in the pocket of her apron. She led them to a table by a large bay window, immediately handing out menus. "You're waiter will be here soon," she told them as she walked back to her post at the entrance.  
  
"Fans," Natsumi chuckled. "Where would we be without them, eh Sana- chan?"  
  
Sana nodded, a giggle escaping from her lips. "It is nice to get away sometimes, though."  
  
"Don't get too comfortable," the singer warned. "Some of the people here know of you from that one movie you did a few years ago in America."  
  
"You mean 'Water Palace?'" Sana asked, laughing loudly. "I was only fourteen!"  
  
"But you were the main character," Fuka reminded her.  
  
"Well," Natsumi stood up from the booth, swinging her purse over her shoulder, "I need to go to the ladies room. Come with me, Sana-chan."  
  
Sana stood up, slightly bewildered. "Okay."  
  
Hayama watched as the two girls headed for the restroom, before standing up as well.  
  
"What are you doing?" Aya asked him, taking a sip from the glass of water on the table.  
  
"My job," he answered curtly, striding over to stand next to the door. He could just barely hear the mumbles inside the room as his sister and client talked.  
  
* * *  
  
Natsumi reached into her purse, pulling out a white come and running it through her chin-length brown hair. Her strokes were smooth and graceful, much more refined than Sana thought she, herself, would ever be.  
  
"So, when did Akito start working for you?" Natsumi asked, peering over at the actress.  
  
Sana looped a lock of her chestnut brown hair behind her ear. "Oh, just a few days."  
  
"He told me about the letters," Natsumi said softly, slowly putting her comb away.  
  
Sana's shoulders stiffened as she played with her fingers nervously. "What about the pilots?"  
  
The singer nodded. "That too. You know, I once received frightening letters, too."  
  
Sana's eyes widened at the revelation. "Really?"  
  
"Yes. I had to hire a bodyguard, too," Natsumi went on.  
  
"What happened to him?" the actress asked, a frown creasing her brow.  
  
A wide grin surfaced on Natsumi's face as her eyes glittered lovingly. "I married him."  
  
* * *  
  
Author's Note: Hehehehehe! Perhaps a taste of things to come? Well, I'm not sure yet, but we'll see in the future chapters! Anyway, sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors, but I'm way too lazy to check. Besides, I've gotta clean my room. Ta-ta for now! 


	8. Four Candles

Author's Note: *sweatdrop* Geez, school just has me on a tight schedule now. But, thanks to good ol' Turkey Day, I had some time to write up Chapter 8. I wanna thank you all for your good reviews! *sniffs* I don't think I could have ever done it without any of you! In fact, I'll reply to some of you right now!  
  
Ledophole: Well, maybe you'll be a bit more satisfied after reading this. *points down* Just wait 'till you see what happens in this chapter. Hehehehehehe!  
  
Minako: Yeah, I guess I do kind of lack in the description area. I usually don't have much time to right, so I pretty much rush though my chapters ^_^ Anyway, I've seen to episode thirty-six. It's really not too far into the series, so that's why I made an Alternate Universe story.  
  
To my other reviewers: Thanks a bunch for your great comments! I love you all!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Really. I swear. You can sue me if you want, but I'm warning you - you won't get much. Really! I swear!  
  
* * *  
  
"EH?" Sana shrieked loudly, her chestnut eyes huge with surprise. "You married your bodyguard?"  
  
The actress's attention was diverted as the heavy door to the bathroom swung open, banging against the wall loudly.  
  
"Are you okay?" Hayama asked calmly, a pistol held in his outstretched hand. It looked so casual, almost as if he were born with it.  
  
Sana's gaze fell onto the gun. It seemed that her bodyguard was always ready for action. He must have been constantly armed, in that case.  
  
'A bodyguard must be prepared for anything and everything.'  
  
The words rung in her ears as she recalled the tragedy on the airplane. 'At least one of us will always be prepared,' she thought grimly, yet admirably. 'I don't think I would have ever been able to stop trembling if it weren't for him.'  
  
Natsumi rolled her eyes, her reaction contrasting highly with the stunned expression on Sana's face. "Really Akito, did you not see the 'WOMEN' sign on the front of the door?"  
  
"I heard a yell," Hayama answered, making no move to recoil his arm.  
  
"I-It's fine," Sana stuttered, clearing her throat. "Natsumi-chan just told me some surprising news."  
  
A second past before Hayama accepted this answer, sliding the gun inside the waistband of his dark denim pants. "What, you're not pregnant, are you?"  
  
"WHAT? Of course not!" Natsumi yelled, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Okura-kun and I have only been married for a month!"  
  
Hayama smirked, leaning against the wall while he folded his arms across his sculpted chest. "And you two haven't gotten it on yet? I'm ashamed to have you as my sister."  
  
"AKITO!" Natsumi shouted as she violently swung her purse at the bodyguard's head.  
  
Hayama ducked the offending pocketbook as his fingers curled around his sister's wrist. "Hn. Don't take it out on me if no man wants to get in bed with you," he told her, the sneer still crossing his lips.  
  
Natsumi's behavior changed drastically as she closed her eyes and chuckled deeply - almost sinisterly. "Pregnancy is a whole different matter, Akito-kun," she said silkily, wrenching her captured arm back.  
  
The singer swung the strap of her purse across her shoulder before exiting the bathroom, her high heels clicking against the spotless tiles. "I'm just careful," she threw over her shoulder before the door closed, leaving her brother and the actress alone.  
  
Sana stared blankly at the closed door, blinking rapidly.  
  
"You and your sister have a weird relationship," she murmured after a few moments of a silence, somewhat dazed.  
  
Hayama stared at his client from the corner of his eye as she shrugged. "It's nothing special."  
  
"It is," Sana protested quietly, a smile of envy gracing her lips. "I don't know what it's like to have siblings."  
  
"What did Natsumi say to you before I came in?" Hayama asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.  
  
Sana's eyes widened at the question as blood flew quickly to her cheeks.  
  
"She told me about how she was once in my position," the actress half- lied. "I was so surprised. I would have never thought that anyone would want to hurt her."  
  
'Well, it's part of the truth,' the actress thought, giving herself a bit of credit.  
  
Hayama grunted, pushing himself off the wall. "Mirou Genji," he muttered, scowling at the ground.  
  
"What?" Sana asked, taking a step closer to her bodyguard.  
  
"That was the name of the man who was stalking her," Hayama replied. "After Saichirou caught him, he was thrown into an insane asylum." After a moment, he added, "Saichirou is her husband."  
  
The actress's flushed face contorted into one of disgust. "Ugh, he was crazy?"  
  
Hayama stared at her, knowing it would be best not to tell her that he was the one stalking her as well - or one of the ones stalking her. "Yeah..."  
  
"How awful," Sana muttered before trekking to the door in her unstable high heels. "Who knows what an insane person might do...?"  
  
"She's over it," Hayama stated. "Don't worry about her right now."  
  
Sana stared intently into her bodyguard's deep eyes, a small smile wavering on her lips. "We should go. Men don't usually walk into women's bathrooms," she spoke quietly, holding the door open for her bodyguard.  
  
Hayama didn't walk through the doorway, but rather held the door in his client's place, allowing her to walk ahead of him. "I'll be right behind you."  
  
The young actress nodded numbly, hesitantly stepping through the varnished frame. She immediately felt her bodyguard's strong hand on the small of her back, intending to firmly guide her back to their table.  
  
'Natsumi-san married her bodyguard...?' she thought to herself quietly, her russet eyes traveling over the exotic restaurant. 'Romantic, now that I think about it.'  
  
Her gaze wandered across tables, settling on a few dancing couples every now and then. The action came naturally to her. Ever since she received her first letter, she couldn't stop glancing around. It wasn't necessarily a nervous take, but rather being extremely cautious. After all, she couldn't really bring herself to be nervous with her defender there, always ready to shield her from harm.  
  
Sana quickly moved to the side of the carpeted aisle as a tall man wearing a deep red apron passed by. He slipped through the crowd easily, holding a two layer chocolate cake on a tray, raising it above his head with his right hand as he weaved through the throng of people dancing happily to the Spanish music.  
  
The actress smiled to herself, realizing that it must have been a birthday cake. 'Good wishes to the one receiving it,' she prayed silently.  
  
Four blinding, orange flames caught Sana's attention, as she stopped in front of the little girl receiving her layered dessert.  
  
Sana tilted her head slowly to the side, mesmerized by the shimmering flames as they danced in the depths of her chestnut eyes. 'Four candles,' she thought dreamily. 'I've seen this before...'  
  
"What's wrong?" Hayama urged when she came to a halt. He followed her intense watch to the flickering fire, arching an eyebrow when she continued to stare.  
  
'What is she doing?' The bodyguard's eyebrows drew together, registering the misty look in his client's eyes.  
  
  
  
Four candles.  
  
A newly aged four year old sat at a round, mahogany table, placed in front of a towering, three layer fudge cake.  
  
  
  
"Snap out of it," he demanded firmly as he curled his fingers around Sana's upper-arm. "We need to get back to the table..."  
  
The limb was abruptly shaken away as it fell limply back to its owner's side. "No," came the flat, dead response.  
  
  
  
Four candles.  
  
A gunshot shattered the stillness of the tranquil night.  
  
  
  
Sana stood, rooted to her spot in the mix of dancing and eating families as long-forgotten scenes cried out in rage to play in her mind's eye.  
  
  
  
Four candles.  
  
A man fell forward onto the polished table, his eyes glazed over.  
  
  
  
"Kurata," Hayama whispered soothingly into the actress's ear, trying to get her mental state back in this world.  
  
  
  
Four candles.  
  
A sickening sound of thick liquid being pressed between the man's body and the surface of the table, crimson droplets staining the girl's terrified face.  
  
  
  
"Sana," Hayama tried again, this time reverting to her given name.  
  
  
  
Four candles.  
  
Another gunshot, this time a woman being the one to succumb to it.  
  
  
  
"Damn it," Hayama cursed under his breath, waving a hand in front of the dazed girl. "Come on, Sana."  
  
  
  
Four candles.  
  
A chocolate dessert falling onto the timbered floor.  
  
  
  
"Sana!"  
  
  
  
Four candles.  
  
A burning cabin.  
  
  
  
"Get a grip, already!"  
  
  
  
Four candles...and the anguished scream of a little girl.  
  
  
  
"HEY!"  
  
All at once, the pictures shattered.  
  
Cheers and applauding drowned out the fearful gunshots.  
  
Whipped, chocolate frosting replaced the scarlet pools of blood.  
  
Four, flameless candles beat out the scorching flames.  
  
Sana's hand immediately leapt to her chest as she gasped with the insistent pounding of her heart. Her russet eyes roamed frantically around the room, searching for any recognition of where she was.  
  
"Sana?" a deep, alto voice tentatively asked.  
  
The actress whipped her head around, staring into the eyes of her protector.  
  
"...Are you okay?"  
  
Suddenly, everything returned to the lost girl's memory. She was here, at the Mexican restaurant, to eat lunch with the famous singer, Hayama Natsumi. No one had been shot. The edifice wasn't enveloped in blazing embers.  
  
A relieved serenity overcame her frenzied heart as she wavered a smile. "Since when did you start calling me by my given name, Hayama?"  
  
Hayama stared blankly at his client. "What happened to you?"  
  
"Nothing...I was just remembering one of my birthdays!" she stated cheerfully.  
  
The actress winced slightly under the intensity of her bodyguard's glare. "Don't," he warned.  
  
"Don't what?"  
  
"Don't lie to me."  
  
Sana swallowed, looping her hair behind one ear. "I'm not lying, Hayama!"  
  
"I'm supposed to protect you," he reminded her.  
  
"And you've been doing a fantastic job!" Sana tried to convince him, flashing her best awards smile.  
  
'I can't do this,' the actress thought to herself as she felt her smile tremble slightly. "I'll be right back. I forgot my lipstick in the restroom!"  
  
"I'll go with you," Hayama immediately offered.  
  
Sana shook her head violently, her dark curls whipping across her face. "No-no-no-no-no!" she refused enthusiastically. "If anyone sees you going into the women's bathroom yet AGAIN, it'll be somewhat embarrassing."  
  
"Kurata," Hayama warned again, using the formal approach once again.  
  
"I'll be fine," the actress insisted, backing toward the restroom. "Just go back to the table!"  
  
Hayama released a heavy breath, watching as she safely returned to lavatory.  
  
* * *  
  
Sana stared at herself in the mirror, shaking her head disapprovingly at the weary young woman scowling back.  
  
'After all this time, it still haunts me...'  
  
A deep sigh escaped her lips as she leaned idly against the door, only to jump forward with a startled cry as it opened with the weight.  
  
"Stupid thing!" she exclaimed in frustration as it swung shut again, and settled for resting against the wall instead.  
  
Her mind back on what happened earlier, Sana scrunched her nose in thought.  
  
'I locked it in the depths of my mind. I forbade myself to ever think of it again, but...' Sana lifted her gaze to the ceiling, as if her thoughts were written there. 'When I saw those candles, it was as if I went back in time. It was all I could see.'  
  
"Mom...Dad..."  
  
* * *  
  
Filmy shadows gathered in one corner of the restaurant, cloaking the lone figure standing there with curtains of darkness. Gray ashes from his cigarette butt fluttered to the ruby-colored carpet, the orange embers nestled in the scarlet fibers.  
  
A deep, growling laughter emitted from his throat as he watched his actress walk through the door to the restroom once again.  
  
"And now, time for fun," he mumbled, fingering the cigarette lighter in the pocket of his black trench coat. He tossed the cigarette into the center of the room, signaling for all other men to start preparations.  
  
* * *  
  
"Where's Sana-chan, Akito?" Natsumi inquired once her brother reached the table.  
  
"Still in the restroom," he replied casually as he glanced over at the other two, giggling girls. The one with lighter hair had a cell phone in her hand, and her cheeks were practically flaming.  
  
"Yeah, I've been doing fine," she spoke into the mouthpiece, smiling while still biting her lower lip. "You should come down and visit, Tsuyoshi-kun."  
  
Hayama rolled his eyes as he shoved his sister farther into the booth to make room for himself. "He can't visit. He's busy protecting a man who had been receiving threats since he witnessed a murder."  
  
Fuka shook her head, grinning saucily at her friend's bodyguard. "They caught the guy who was making the threats. He's free to come here!"  
  
"Tsuyoshi-kun and Aya-san," Natsumi murmured, trying out the idea. "I like it!"  
  
"Whatever," came Hayama's flat response.  
  
'She should be back by now,' the bodyguard thought worriedly.  
  
"Hey," Natsumi spoke abruptly, stiffening in her seat as she sniffed the air. "Do you guys smell...smoke?"  
  
Hayama, suddenly alert to the mysterious chain of coughing flitting through the exotic restaurant, inhaled deeply. "There's a fire...!"  
  
"A fire?" Aya echoed, distracted from her phone call.  
  
A few flames scattered in one dark corner of the edifice's interior, not much of a threat by itself, but enough to inflict the customers inside with smoke inhalation. And that was with the fire's condition NOW. It was already starting to rapidly spread along the crimson carpet and peach- colored walls.  
  
Screams erupted from several women as they hurried to get out of the fire's reach. Hayama stood up abruptly, whipping his head around in all directions. From six other corners of the huge restaurant, flames rose along the walls and singed the fiesta tablecloths.  
  
'What the HELL is going on?'  
  
* * *  
  
'What the HELL is going on?'  
  
Sana covered her mouth with her trembling hand as smoke started to invade her nostrils.  
  
'A fire?!'  
  
The actress ran to the door, preparing to open it. 'I might get trapped if I stay here. I've gotta get back to Hayama!'  
  
The door swung open with Sana's violent strength as she rushed out. The huge mass of people were scurrying to the exits, screaming and crying. The four-year-old girl was carried off in the guarding arms of her mother, tears running down both of their cheeks.  
  
"Don't cry, sweetie," Sana heard as the mother tried to comfort her child while desperately running to the exit.  
  
"It's hot, Mommy!" The girl buried her face in her mother's silk blouse, staining the material with salty tears.  
  
"We'll be out soon! So please, don't-"  
  
A burning rafter from the ceiling came crashing down just as the two were in front of the restroom. With all the strength that she could muster, Sana sprang forward and pushed them out of the way.  
  
"Get out of here!" she warned, crouching down on the carpet. She clutched her ankle, the limb that all of her weight was forced upon during the leap. 'My ankle...'  
  
"Th-Thank you, miss!" the mother exclaimed, picking up her crying daughter and joining the crowd of people in their fight to the exits.  
  
Sana watched as the mother and daughter rushed to safety, just when the hungry flames encased her, trapping her with a fence of fire. Fear took over her heart as she fell into a sea of red.  
  
Four candles...and the terrified scream of a young woman.  
  
* * *  
  
"Sana!" Hayama shouted, recognizing the shrill cry of his client.  
  
"Get outside, now!" he commanded the other three girls.  
  
"What about Sana-chan?!" Aya asked shakily, still holding the cell phone.  
  
"I'll get her! Just go!"  
  
The three nodded, taking off for the exit as Hayama trekked to the crying woman, fire extinguisher in hand. He could see the wall of fire by the restroom, separating him from his one and only purpose.  
  
"Sana!"  
  
Another scream ensued from the terrified actress as she lifted her horror-filled eyes to voice asking of her.  
  
Without any hesitation, Hayama held the fire extinguisher out in front of him. With the simple steps of "ready, aim, fire!" the white foamy substance spilled forth, smothering the greedy flames.  
  
In the center of it all, a huddled woman was bent over an injured ankle, shoulders sagged in defeat, head bowed. Her eyes rose from beneath her disheveled bangs, gazing into the brown pools of her defender's.  
  
Hayama ran forward, sweeping the actress into his arms in one swift movement.  
  
"Hayama..."  
  
"I'm your bodyguard," he whispered to her, holding her frail body to his chest. "I'll protect you."  
  
* * *  
  
Author's note: So, there you have it! Okay, I really rushed with this, so it probably looks like crap, but hopefully it'll be enough to hold you all for now! *whines* I really need to start editing my chapters. Well, see ya'll later! 


	9. Confrontation

Author's Note: **watches as everyone's eyes pop out** Oh my! She's uploaded! Why yes, yes I have. I realized that putting this story on hiatus while I worked on my other one (Renaissance of the Heart) was quite unfair to all of my wonderful reviewers of this story.  
  
Now, I'm not saying that I'll be uploading weekly with this story, but I will be working on it. I hope you're all happy to hear that, 'cuz to tell ya the truth, I sure am. I missed this story a lot. I'm actually really happy with the way it's turned out thus far.  
  
You know what? I've had enough of the no romantic action between the two main characters. I took another step toward it in this chapter, so I hope that it will be enough to hold you until the real ooey gooey romance goodness begins in future chapters. Besides, after what happened at the end of the last chapter, it's about time something happened, ne?  
  
Well, you'll just have to read on! **cackles evilly**  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, yeah...I don't own Kodomo no Omocha or any of the characters. If I did, those two would have gotten it on a lot earlier than in the series, I'll tell ya that much! And I would have extended the episodes as well. Maybe I'll create my own anime series. **smiles dreamily as stars appear in her eyes**  
  
Oh, right. The story. Here!  
  
* * *  
  
"How is she?"  
  
"...Okay. The doctor said it was just smoke inhalation and a twisted ankle."  
  
"I still think she should have stayed in the hospital."  
  
"She didn't want to." Hayama folded his arms across his toned chest, his chocolate gaze practically burning into the mahogany door on the opposite side of the hallway. He could hear slight shuffling emanating from the bedroom as the resting actress stirred in her four-poster bed. His eyelids drooped wearily for a brief moment, though not from fatigue.  
  
It was from stress.  
  
Natsumi sighed, shaking her head disapprovingly. "Well, how long does she have to stay off that ankle?"  
  
"A few days," Hayama replied. "It's only a mild twist."  
  
"Her friends are really worried. So am I..."  
  
Hayama looked sharply at her, squinting his eyes in a defiant scowl. "You had your share of constant worrying in the past. Don't trouble yourself anymore with her stalker issues. That's my job."  
  
Natsumi bit her lower lip softly. "I have to admit, she's handling it a lot better than when I handled mine."  
  
"What do you mean?" the bodyguard asked, peering at his sister out of the corner of his eye.  
  
A frown creased Natsumi's brow as she stared intently at door. "Sana's been through so much...The letters, the plane incident, the restaurant..."  
  
"Get on with it, Natsumi," Hayama urged, not wanting to hear the painful moments his client had experienced.  
  
The singer sighed as she shook her head disbelievingly. "All I'm saying is that she's still strong about it," she confessed. "All that happened to me were a few letters and one appearance, but that was enough to put me through therapy."  
  
Hayama's chocolate eyes swiveled from his sister to the door as she spoke.  
  
"It's a wonder that this whole thing hasn't had a psychotic effect on her," Natsumi concluded.  
  
"Kurata...cares a lot about the people around her."  
  
Natsumi glanced up at her brother, slightly tilting her head to one side inquiringly.  
  
"She tries to make it seem like it doesn't affect her in any way, so that no one else will worry. It's as if she doesn't care so much about what happens to her, as to her friends," the bodyguard continued, his unrelenting gaze settling on the brass doorknob. "She's cried once so far. That's the only time she exposed how much turmoil she was really in, and that's the only incident I have to remember to realize the pain that she's going through right now."  
  
Natsumi stared, wide-eyed at the stressed man. "I assume that you're the only one who has seen her cry, as well?"  
  
"...Yes. Kurata's a good actress, but it was right there when she saw the pilots' corpses and a letter addressed to her in blood, that her emotions broke through the confining walls of her heart. It was right there when she fell into my arms, crying."  
  
"So she really is weighed down by anxiety. She's just too afraid to release it," Natsumi mused, her voice barely above a whisper. "...You care about her, don't you?"  
  
Hayama was silent as his golden bangs curtained his pained eyes.  
  
"I've seen your gestures," Natsumi declared. "You're much more careful with her than you've ever been with your previous clients. Was the plane incident the trigger for your compassionate actions?"  
  
A few seconds passed before the bodyguard shook his head slightly. "Not really...before we entered the airport, a couple of drunks were hitting on her. I beat the crap out of them," he stated flatly. "That was the first time I felt real anger and possessiveness over her. It was strange..."  
  
"It is," Natsumi agreed. "Because some of the girls you've guarded were in the same situation, yet you feel something for this certain one. Why is that?"  
  
Hayama pondered deeply for an answer to his sister's query. Why had he felt that sudden rush of anger when he saw their grubby hands reach for his client? Why were his fists clenching even now at the mere memory?  
  
"She didn't scream."  
  
"What?" Natsumi rebounded, somewhat shocked at his simple declaration.  
  
"She didn't scream," Hayama repeated. "She looked them straight in the eye, and even swore at them. I didn't hear her shriek or yell at all. All I could see was the fire in her eyes, that blazing defiance. I guess I can say that I somewhat admired her for it."  
  
"Ironic, isn't it?" Natsumi thought aloud. "She glared maliciously at some drunks who could have seriously harmed her, yet had a nervous break- down when she saw the dead bodies of people she didn't even know."  
  
"Like I said, she cares more for others than herself."  
  
"And it's that attitude that keeps all of her emotions locked inside her heart," the singer added thoughtfully. "If your theory is correct, Akito, and that she's really only acting fine because she doesn't want to cause her friends to worry about her..." she trailed off quietly, searching for the correct words.  
  
"Then it's your job, as the only person she's ever revealed her true feelings to, to share her pain and sorrow," Natsumi finished boldly, staring intently at her younger brother. "Otherwise, she'll crumble."  
  
'Otherwise, she'll crumble...' The words reverberated harshly in Hayama's mind as his eyes widened.  
  
"I think it's time for her to have a good weep like she did on the plane," Natsumi commented softly, noticing that her words were getting through to him.  
  
"But...she didn't want to tell me what was wrong at the restaurant before the fire started. She just hurried to the bathroom."  
  
"She doesn't have to tell you her problems," Natsumi chided softly. "Just give her a shoulder to cry on. Let her know that you'll be there for her, I suppose."  
  
'Give her a shoulder to cry on...let her know that I'll be there for her...' Hayama abruptly pushed himself off of the wall into a rigid standing position. 'I won't let her carry it on her shoulders by herself.'  
  
The singer smiled saucily at her younger brother. "By the way, are you going to call the others to come here?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Fuka-san and Aya-san will surely enjoy their company."  
  
"That's why it's a 'maybe' and not a 'yes.'"  
  
The singer stomped her high-heeled foot roughly against the beige carpet. "You're so mean, Akito! Have a heart!"  
  
"Hn."  
  
Natsumi rubbed her temples frustratingly. "Well, are you hungry?" she asked, looking concernedly at the stoic bodyguard.  
  
"No," Hayama replied curtly, resting his eyes upon the door once again.  
  
"It's past midnight," Natsumi stated. "You've been standing here since we came home around six o' clock."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Are you sure?" she tentatively asked. "In that case, I'll be heading home. Mami-san said that you can get whatever you want from the kitchen anytime."  
  
"Okay," Hayama responded, not bothering to look at her.  
  
Natsumi exhaled slowly before turning and walking down the hallway. "You better take my advice, Akito," she called over her shoulder, as she disappeared behind the corner.  
  
'I will,' Hayama thought determinedly. His fingers slowly coiled themselves around the brass doorknob, turning it and giving him access to his client's bedroom.  
  
The lamps standing on the wooden nightstands on either side of Sana's canopy bed were glowing brightly, illuminating the room for her to read her book comfortably. Her pillows were propped up against the headboard, her leaning against them with the book held loosely on her lap. At the sound of the door creaking open, Sana glanced up.  
  
"I thought you were resting," Hayama commented, closing the door behind him.  
  
"This is resting," Sana responded, smiling.  
  
"I meant sleeping."  
  
"No you didn't," Sana disagreed. "You wouldn't be in here if that was the case."  
  
"I was hoping you'd be awake," the bodyguard confessed.  
  
Sana brushed a lock of her chestnut hair behind her ear, the smile gradually leaving her lips. "What's up?" she asked, concern flashing through her inquiring eyes.  
  
Hayama slowly made his way to the four-poster bed, his gaze focused on the calm girl. 'Too calm.' He saw the agitating look of anxiety creep into her chocolate pools, slightly dulled by the dark blue half-circles beneath her lids.  
  
"Natsumi and I were talking," he began, stopping once he reached the side of her bed.  
  
Sana looked thoughtful for a moment as she closed her book. "I thought I heard voices outside my door..."  
  
"She's worried about you."  
  
"I'm fine, really."  
  
"No you're not!" Hayama's voice rose, not exactly shouting, but pretty loud for a stoic man like him. Sana winced at his blazing tone. "You're a strong person, Kurata," he stated, calming albeit. "The fact that you've going through all of this without going psycho is amazing. But don't hold everything in for the sake of others."  
  
Sana inclined her head, peering down at her slender hands as they clutched the white satin sheets. "You don't understand, Hayama."  
  
"Hn?"  
  
"Everyone...Everyone is in danger because of me," she whispered, gently closing her eyes. "Seeing me in such a stressful state would only add to their load of worries."  
  
"I understand why you'd act differently around them, but," Hayama exhaled slowly, combing his fingers through his golden mane. "But not around me."  
  
Sana's eyes snapped open as she continued to stare at her clenched fingers.  
  
"I'm here to protect you," Hayama went on. "But my job is also about making you feel more at ease, and stopping your constant worrying. Seeing you happy and content would naturally be a relief, but knowing that it's just an act hurts even more. It means that I failed."  
  
"Hayama," Sana spoke softly, lifting her gaze to meet his. "You've helped me so much already. If you weren't there on the plane with me when I found the pilots...I probably would have gone psycho."  
  
The actress paused to swallow, swiveling her gaze to meet the paned window beside her bed. "The truth is, I'm forced to act like I'm fine. It's what Fuka-chan and Aya-chan want."  
  
"But it's not what I want," Hayama stated coolly, dropping down beside his client on the flocculent mattress.  
  
"You like seeing me cry?" Sana questioned, turning to face him.  
  
"No. I like seeing you be true to yourself." Hayama looked down, surprised at the book being dropped onto his lap. His keen eyes read the title "My Daughter and I."  
  
"That's the story of my life," Sana stated. "Mama wrote it, explaining how she found me wandering the streets one day, nearly starved to death."  
  
"Why are you..."  
  
"When I was four years old, my parents were murdered on my birthday," Sana began. She could already feel a barrier of tears shielding her glossy eyes. "My last name was Takasugi back then.  
  
"My mother...My real one, I mean...had just brought out my birthday cake, with four candles embedded in the sweet frosting. The next thing I remember is a coat of red staining the chocolate dessert."  
  
"Four candles," Hayama echoed softly. "So, that's why you went into a trance back at the restaurant," he deduced.  
  
"The purpose of the book was to alert people of the murderer," Sana continued. "I was really frightened at the time. I kept thinking that he would come back and shoot Mama. It was the worst time of my life...before this, that is."  
  
A shaky sigh slipped through her petal-like lips as she shivered. "I don't mask my true emotions just because I don't want my friends to worry about me, Hayama. What I'm afraid of is making them feel constant fear. Aya-chan and Fuka-chan knew how scared I was back then, because I didn't hide it. But I knew that at the same time, they were afraid of the same thing happening to their families. I don't want them to go through anything like that again..."  
  
Sana bit her lip softly as she clutched the sheets with pallid knuckles. "It's out of habit that I act this way, you see."  
  
Hayama just stared at her, his lips parted slightly in surprise.  
  
"If you really want to know how I feel right now, Hayama," Sana choked out, a single tear rolling down her soft cheek, "I'm scared. Really scared." She could feel her shoulders starting to tremble at her confession as another pair of salty tears trickled from her blood-shot eyes.  
  
Shock was a major understatement of what Sana felt when she was pulled into a warm, muscular embrace. Her head rested against the crook of her bodyguard's neck, as she wept on tanned flesh. "I'm sure many people were trapped in the restaurant," she cried out, her voice muffled by her sobs. "Some were probably even killed!"  
  
Hayama gently nuzzled his face in her chocolate tresses, soothingly stroking her back. "I won't lie to you," he confessed. "There were a few deaths today, and some people are still tramped within the crumbled building. But none of it is your fault."  
  
"But it was set on fire to get to me," Sana argued as her tears stained his black men's tank top.  
  
(A/N: I also had him wearing a men's tank top in my other fic. I can't help it; men look hot in those! **giggles**)  
  
"Listen to me Sana," Hayama ordered, using her given name. "You are the victim of someone with a sick mind. Whatever he does is not your fault, and never will be. Instead of feeling remorse over the deaths that have occurred and taking full responsibility for them, avenge them."  
  
"What?" Sana questioned, lifting her head up to look into his eyes.  
  
"Avenge them," Hayama repeated, brushing a damp lock of her chestnut hair away from her wet cheeks, his other arm still draped loosely around her waist. "He's trying to break you down. Don't let him. Show him the strong woman you are, the one I saw that night fighting against two drunken bastards with passion blazing in her eyes."  
  
A minute passed by as Hayama gazed boldly into the actress's swollen eyes, with her returning a slightly less defiant stare. "...Will you help me?" Sana whispered softly, her hands placed gently on her defender's muscled chest.  
  
"Always," Hayama assured.  
  
"And protect me?"  
  
"Always," he repeated.  
  
Sana could feel her bodyguard's hot breath against her moistened eyelids as she clutched onto the fabric of his cotton shirt, either desperate not to let him go, or craving to be nearer to that sense of security. Maybe it was both.  
  
Hayama's response was tightening his grip around her slim waist, pulling her small frame closer to his torso. Still seeing a slight flash of terror and anxiety in her chocolate eyes, he did the only other thing he could think of to wash away her worries.  
  
Inclining his head to meet her lips, he kissed her.  
  
* * *  
  
Author's Note: Wow, you don't know how happy I am to finally get a romance piece out. Now I can concentrate more on their relationship rather than the stalker. **squeals** I'm as giddy as a schoolgirl! Well, that could be because I'm a schoolgirl, but still. I'm happy!  
  
Please review. I understand that it's been quite a while since my last update, but I would like to know that my story is still being read. Good bye for now! 


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